Out of the Frying Pan
by anaer
Summary: When Remy's powers start to evolve, he finds himself the recipient of some rather Sinster attention, perhaps not for the first time. ROMY JONDA LORO; Acolyte Bromance
1. Control

Adrian: Hello all! So, this is actually my third X-Men fanfiction, but I deleted the other two from the site. One was an X-Men-movie story, and the other was also Evo. It was entitled "Into the Fire" and it was about Gambit getting into trouble and so on and so forth. To be quite honest, I'm not entirely sure if I meant to delete it, but I hadn't updated in about two or three years, so I'm pretty sure I did. However, now I've received some renewed zeal in regards to X-men, so I decided to start a new X-men story. This one is actually connected to the other one in that it is a prequel, more or less. After finishing this, I will more than likely rewrite the other one. Then again, I may not. It depends on how much work I have, and I've been swamped as it is of late. I'll try and update this story as much as possible (hopefully every week) but at the moment, my other story is my top priority. This is my little fun activity that I'm doing to satisfy my innate need for some Gambit-action.

I'm not too sure about the time placement of this story, but I would say at least two years after Cajun Spice. Rogue is eighteen now...So Apocalypse and all that happened (speaking of which, if I fail to mention anything relevant with Apocalypse, I apologize – I missed those episodes). Also, it's been, like, forever since I last watched any Evo episode, so if my placing is off, please correct me. Oh, and I place Gambit around 20 or so because any older than that, and the show would have been promoting paedophilia, which we all know, kiddies, is wrong.

I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: If I owned X-Men: Evolution, Gambit would never have been given that horrible hair cut. If I owned comic-verse X-Men, Gambit would never have burnt out his full-powers fighting New Sun. And if I owned movie-verse X-Men...well...don't even get me started on that one...

CURRENT LISTENING: _**Beat It**_** by Fall-Out Boy, feat. John Mayer**

**Out of the Frying Pan**

**Prologue: Control**

Footsteps echoed rapidly into the night off of the desolate concrete of the city's sidewalk. The lone mutant hurried on to his destination, clutching his shaggy coat tightly around his body to create some form of warmth to combat the freezing Seattle weather. As he wandered on, he frequently glanced over his shoulder, paranoia dictating his need to do this despite the fact that he was, essentially, blind. The young mutant (or man, they were essentially the same thing no matter what assholes like the FOH liked to think) hastened his steps, sensing that something about the night wasn't quite right.

Arriving at his destination, an old abandoned warehouse scheduled to be knocked down any month now, the homeless young man wasted no time in climbing to the fourth floor, the place where he had made his home for the past...well, he couldn't quite remember how much time had passed since he'd been here. It had to have been at least a month.

So caught up in his musings, the sightless man didn't realize the other presence until it began to speak.

"Well, well, well," the other growled mockingly, "What do we have here?"

The mutant stiffened, immediately on alert and suddenly sensing all the other minds in the room as well.

"I'm gonna enjoy ripping you apart after all the shit you've put me through tryin' to catch you," the other continued.

"Don't you dare, Sabretooth," another one snapped. "We're supposed to bring him in as unharmed as possible."

"Who died and made you boss, Scalphunter?" a decidedly female voice joined in.

"Essex made me boss. If you've got a problem with that, Malice, you can take it up with him."

"And I wouldn't suggest doing that if I were you," another girl spoke up.

"Who the hell asked you, Vertigo?" Malice snarled.

"You didn't _need_ to ask me, bi—"

"Would you shut up?!" Scalphunter roared, glancing over at the kid they had come to acquire for their boss. He had shifted into a defensive position. "Look, kid, we're not here to hurt you. Our boss, he's a scientist. He knows you've been having trouble controlling you're powers, and he wants to help you."

The much younger mutant scowled. Did they think him an idiot? If it was that simple, they wouldn't have been chasing him across the city for the past _three_ _weeks_.

"Not interested," he snarled before catching himself and taking deep, slow breaths. Whatever happened, he had to keep calm.

Sabretooth roared and lunged at him, the young man smoothly twisting out of the way. He wasn't used to fighting blind, but he would make do if he had to. Diving out of the way of a metal beam headed straight for his head, the homeless boy twirled around to come face-to-face with Sabretooth once more. The giant hulk of a man brought his arm around to claw the younger guy, but once more, he sensed the attack and ducked out of the way. Malice sent more metal items flying his way, and he barely managed to catch a dart Scalphunter had shot at him before whipping it right back at the older man with astounding accuracy for the fact that his eyes were closed.

The fight continued in this manner for at least a good half hour with Vertigo opting to sit out and watch the other three, and the boy they were trying to apprehend growing increasingly frustrated and annoyed. And with the frustrations came the beginnings of that familiar power build-up in the deep recesses of his stomach. In all likelihood, panic should have been the last thing for him to do. Panic would not help anything. Hell, panic would just make it worse. That's what his mind shouted at him. He panicked anyway. And the build-up doubled in intensity.

Scalphunter scowled in annoyance. There was no way Essex was going to excuse them if they got their asses kicked by a kid with no control who was fighting blindly. And Vertigo...

"Vertigo!" he snarled in annoyance.

The green-and-white haired women sighed, pushing herself from the seat she had chosen. "If you insist," she replied smarmily, aiming her hands in the direction of the kid and concentrating.

Said kid had barely just managed to put a clamp on his bubbling powers, when it hit him. At was as if the world had tipped out from under his feet. It was spinning. Everything was spinning. He stumbled back and forth, unable to get a bearing on anything. The world was tilting, and spinning, and he was growing increasingly light-headed. And he freaked out.

Scalphunter, about to shoot another dart at the kid, froze at the sight before him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Malice hissed, green hair whipping around her face as she turned to glare at Vertigo.

"I'm not doing anything!" Vertigo replied angrily, continuing to focus her powers on him. "That's not me!"

"Well, he sure as hell hasn't been glowing ever before!" Sabretooth growled.

Scalphunter decided then that he really didn't want to find out what the younger mutant's uncontrollable powers were. Picking up his gun, and barely taking the time to aim, he fired. It would've been a perfect shot, too. Unfortunately, the moment the tranquilizer got within a foot of the homeless mutant, right where the brilliant red entrenching him started, it was instantaneously ripped apart atom by atom. Practically incinerated in less than a second.

"Shit!" Scalphunter exclaimed. "Vertigo, keep holding him!"

The girl glared, sweat dripping down her brow. "I'm trying, but he's starting to slip free of my hold," she ground out. The strain was evident in her voice.

Scalphunter nodded at Malice, who reached out a hand. A metal beam that she had previously discarded lifted off the ground before hurling itself straight at the out-of-control mutant. However, the same thing that happened with the tranquilizer happened with the beam, if not quite so instantaneous (this time it took all of _three_ seconds).

The homeless young man still stumbled around. He was beyond panicked now. He could barely just keep a hold on his powers, which were leaking out at an alarming rate. And then a hand clamped around his throat, blocking off his airway. And then he made a fatal mistake. He opened his eyes.

And everything went to hell.

**TBC...**

Adrian: Okay, I'll make this brief due to the really long note I put at the beginning. But, basically, since I started writing this, I've re-watched the first seven episodes...and counting. But if anything doesn't agree with the show, well, we'll just say that this is AU. I hope you enjoyed!

Review!


	2. Omega

Adrian: Well, howdy-doo! Here's Chapter Two! ...Actually, chapter one, but that rhymed... So, this character brings in our very favourite X-Men, with our not-so-favourite Scott Summers at their head. But with our wonderfully-favourite Rogue in the midst of them all. Do I smell Romy? I think I do... BTW, I'm going to go easy on the accents, they're just not my thing when it makes it hard to read. Except, maybe, Gambit's. But I'm still deciding on that one.

Also, this chapter may or may not introduce John and Wanda, my other all-time favourite couple, like, ever. And votes are out on who Kitty gets paired with: Kurt (everyone's favourite fuzzy blue elf), Lance (everyone's favourite misunderstood teen), or Piotr (everyone's favourite Russian Acolyte). Read and Review! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I still don't own X-Men in any way, shape, or form, but I may or may not own Remy...

ONE MORE THING! I just want to give everyone a quick reminder about time-zones. Seattle and Nevada are three hours behind New York. Just so you know.

CURRENT LISTENING: _**Beat It**_**, by Fall-Out Boy; **_**Lie to Me**_**, by 12 Stones; **_**Holiday**_**, by Greenday**

**Out of the Frying Pan

* * *

**

**Chapter One: Omega**

_Bayville, New York:  
June 12 – 1:00 A.M._

"_All X-Men report to the War Room immediately. All X-Men report to the War Room immediately."_

Throughout the mansion of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, groans echoed loudly as teens pulled themselves out of their bed, wondering why they were being assembled at one in the morning. It had been a long day of fighting the Brotherhood, training with Logan, training with Storm, training with Logan _again_, and (did I mention?) fighting the Brotherhood, and now the X-Men wanted to do nothing more than _sleep_. However, it looked like they weren't even going to be lucky enough to do _that_ now.

"Just when Ah finally got to sleep," Rogue groused, plopping herself down in a seat next to Kitty. "Couldn't the Professah leave whatevah mission he has for us 'til the mornin'? 'Cause it's one in the mornin', we've had a long day, and Ah wanna sleep."

"We're all, like, tired, too, Rogue. And I'm sure the Professor wouldn't have called us all together at this time of night if it wasn't something, like, uberly important," Kitty replied, somehow still perky despite being woken from her beauty sleep.

"Yes, mein schwester, she's right. It is probably very important," Kurt grinned as he bamfed into the empty seat next to Rogue.

"Y'all are way too optimistic for me," the southern girl groaned. "All Ah know is that if this turns out to be some stupid mission for some stupid reason, Ah'm gonna hurt someone _real_ good."

The conversation died as the other tired X-Men slunk into the room, very unenthusiastically plopping into chairs around the long table.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're all looking cheerful," the professor smiled, light reflecting off of his bald head.

"Not to be rude, Professor, but...why did you wake us up?" Scott questioned, sounding somewhat annoyed. He did, after all, have a huge exam that he had to take first-thing in the morning.

"Ah, yes, I do apologize for waking you all up at this time," the professor paused, "not that you were all sleeping in the _first_ place..." Bobby and Sam laughed nervously at the looks everyone gave them. "All the same, I know you've all had a long day, and I assure you that any and all training for tomorrow will be cancelled due to this unforeseen task that has arisen. You all can sleep all day tomorrow if you so wish."

"Chuck," Logan rumbled quietly to the man.

"Ah, right. Thank you, Logan. The reason I've called you all here is that Cerebro has detected a new mutant in the Seattle area."

Rogue jumped up and banged her fist down on the table, splintering the wood. "_That's_ why you called us down here? Because there's a new mutant! And what part of that _couldn't_ wait until the _morning_!"

"Sit down and listen, Stripes," Logen growled, popping out a claw. "It's important."

"Whatevah," the girl snapped, sliding back down into her chair.

"As I was saying," Charles continued, "Cerebro detected a new mutant. This mutant has some of the strongest, if not _the_ strongest, telepathic shields I've ever encountered, so we couldn't gather any danger as we normally would. All we know is that he's powerful, he's dangerous, and he's out of control."

"Well, what are we waiting for? We should totally be going, like, right now!" Kitty exclaimed.

"I don't think he's done briefing us yet," Jean said.

"No, not quite. I need you all to be careful because Cerebro also detected several other mutants in the area. I have reason to believe that they're after the same mutant that we are."

"Magneto's goons?" Jubilee asked excitedly, cracking her gum.

"Trust me; these other mutants have nothing to do with Magneto. And they're decidedly more dangerous than any enemy you've encountered thus far...not including Apocalypse, of course." The professor then turned to the new girl, her long black hair twisted into a bun. She had joined them about two months ago, after what the students referred to as the 'Carol Danvers Incident'. "Tessa, I know you're not officially a part of this team yet, but I believe you would be an asset in finding our mutant."

Tessa, the mutant known as Sage, nodded her acquiescence. "I'll go."

"Good. X-Men, you may go."

As the X-Men filed out, Wolverine moved next to Xavier. "Why'd you lie to 'em, Chuck?"

Charles Xavier turned to look at Logan. "As much as I hate lying to them, I can't let their pre-determined biases get in the way of helping. It's safer for everyone involved that they don't know who they're dealing with. This...this may be an Omega-class mutant we're dealing with. We can't let power like that run around uncontrolled and unchecked, and we also can't afford it to fall into just _anyone's_ hands. If they knew the truth, well...that's just what might end up happening."

Logan nodded, continuing on his way to the door. As he reached for the doorknob, the feral mutant stopped, and turned his head back towards the paraplegic old man. "So, who is it anyway, bub?" he growled, a grin on his face.

Xavier gave him a sly smile. "If I wouldn't tell them, what makes you think I would tell you? You'll have to find out when you get there, just like them."

Wolverine barked out a laugh. "That bad, huh?"

The professor nodded. "That bad."

"S'long as it's not Sabretooth, I'm good," Wolverine muttered under his breath, still chuckling, as he made his way out of the room. After all, they had a mutant to catch.

_Seattle, Washington:  
June 12 – 12:00 A.M._

A collective groan echoed through the Blackbird as it made landing. The whole group was completely and totally wiped out. The short two-hour rest they'd gotten on the trip had left nothing to show for it except for sore backs from odd positions on the seats.

"You do realize," Jean spoke up, "that it's three in the morning, right, Logan?"

"Actually," the gruff mutant began, a creepy smile on his face, "it's only midnight." He received five glares for that statement. Everyone else was just too tired to care.

Somehow, though, Scott managed to pull himself together to take charge of the team. "Okay, guys, we don't know who or what we're dealing with, we've just got the coordinates the Professor gave us. Sage will take us there, and then we'll split up into two groups of five each to scour the area for our mutant. Based on what Professor Xavier said, we'll know we're close by the amount of destruction at hand."

"Well, gee, that's a real good way to figure it out," Sam drawled. Rogue smirked and Bobby snickered. Sage rolled her eyes.

"Are we just going to stand around here cracking jokes or are we going to actually get moving? Because I, for one, want to get to sleep sometime _tonight_," She growled.

"Sage is right, we should get going. When we get there, Rogue, Shadowcat, Cannonball, and Sage, you're with me. Jean, Iceman, Jubilee, and Nightcrawler, you're with Wolverine. Any questions?"

"Uh, yeah, I've got one," Bobby tried. At the eight glares he received, the Iceman shrunk back. "...Nevermind."

With not a distraction more, the ten drained X-Men made their way from the jet, not knowing what destruction awaited them...

_Desert of Nevada:  
July 11 – 10:30 P.M._

The defeated Marauders warily made their way through the large underground complex, not looking forward to the welcome that awaited them. Scalphunter, especially, was nervous. He was their leader and he had failed. He was the one who was going to have to report the bad news to Mr. EssexHe was H. He just hoped that Mr. Essex would be in a forgiving mood tonight, else that would be the end of him. And the Native American mutant _really_ didn't want to die. At least not tonight.

"Well?" Essex questioned as soon as the black-haired man entered the main lab. "Where is he?"

"He, uh...he got away, sir," Scalphunter replied, beads of sweat trickling down his face.

The red-eyed man turned to face his lackeys, a frown crossing his face. "He got away?" Scalphunter nodded. "He _got_ AWAY?!" the doctor roared. "This is COMPLETELY unacceptable! He's a barely-out-of-his teens mutant with NO CONTROL over his powers and you're telling me that FOUR OF YOU were not enough to CAPTURE HIM!?"

"He brought a _twelve_-_story_ _building_ down on us! If we hadn't gotten out of there then, we would've been _killed_."

Essex appeared to calm down slightly. "So he brought a twelve-story building down on you, you say?"

Scalphunter nodded.

"Then you should've stayed there and died. I have no use for lackeys that can't even do as their told in the face of a frivolous amount of power."

"He decimated a—!"

"Twelve-story building, yes, you _said_. And if you think that's power, you're better off to me dead. That is not even a _fraction_ of what he could do had he control. He is an Omega-class mutant. Do you understand what that means? It means he has the potential for limitless power. _Limitless_. I want his power and I WILL have it. I will not accept failure. Lucky for you, though, I happen to be in a forgiving mood tonight. I will give you one more chance. Don't mess up."

Scalphunter could've fainted in bliss, he was so relieved. "Thank you, sir, we won't let you down."

"No. You won't. And this time, take all the Marauders."

"Will do."

_Seattle, Washington:  
June 12 – 12:38 A.M._

Rogue stared out at the destruction in front of her, a glower on her face. "_This_ is the place where we're supposed tah start lookin' for the man?" she groaned.

Logan had a peculiar look on his face as he sniffed the air. "This is the place, alright. And if I'm right, he ain't gone nowhere, so we don't have to split up." _Nice one, Chuck_, he added mentally, sure that Charles was still tracking them from the other side of the country.

'_I figured you'd appreciate it, Logan,'_ came the almost-instant reply. Logan grinned. This annoyed him to no end, but he could see where Xavier was coming from.

"Wait, wait, wait," Jubilee cried. "You mean that our mutant is buried somewhere underneath all that rubble?"

"That's right, Bubble-gum," Wolverine responded. "So you better start digging."

"I am so not getting paid enough for this," Scott groaned as he shifted to start moving debris.

"Here, here," Rogue agreed, moving to the larger, heavier rocks to start lifting. It was only times like these that she was thankful for the "Carol Danvers Incident". At least now she wasn't completely helpless while everyone else did all the work.

Shadowcat and Nightcrawler moved through the rubble, Kitty sliding right through it and Kurt teleporting to whatever empty space he could find in order to better locate their mutant.

"Kitty! Over here!" Jean cried. Kitty ran over to her. "I think I sense something down there. It's coming through like static, but it's got to be someone's mind."

Shadowcat nodded and slipped down into the rubble. A moment later she popped back up, excitement on her face. "There's, like, someone down there! I think we've found our guy!"

"Okay, then, people, move on outta the way," Rogue declared, cracking her knuckles as she walked up to them. With barely any effort, the skunk-haired girl began lifting the heavy boulders out of the ground and throwing them to the side. Jean got rid of any side rubble.

"Okay, it's, like, just a few more feet down. Okay?"

"Yeah, Kitty, we got it," the southern girl grunted, hauling another boulder out from the hole she was digging. Another few minutes, and there was a break in the debris, with soft red light glowing from inside of it.

"Jean, can you get the last of the stuff?" Rogue asked.

"Got it," the red-head replied, hauling the rest of it away with her mind. Rogue jumped down into the hole, carefully coordinating her landing with her fairly new powers of flight. The southern girl winced when she saw the body in the air pocket. This whole area was lit up with a soft red light that was emitting from the prone body in front of her. Just being in it stung at her skin a bit...and she was invulnerable.

"This had so bettah be worth it," Rogue growled, kneeling next to the man on the floor. She turned him over...and froze. "Logan!" she called up.

"Yeah, Stripes?" he shouted back down.

"You sure this is the right place? Where the Professah said?"

"Yes, this is the right place!" Sage snapped down, taking offense to that. After all, part of her mutant powers was her ability to remember everything.

"Why?" Logan hollered back, ignoring Sage's comment.

"Because...because this here is Gambit!" Rogue shrieked back. "That two-bit, low-down, thievin' Cajun kidnapper!"

Logan smirked. "Then we've got our mutant!" he replied, ignoring the shocked exclamations of everyone around him.

**TBC...**

Adrian: Well, there we go. Gambit entered the story. As for why Storm and some of the other X-Characters aren't in it yet, well, I have a plausible explanation which may or may not be explained in the next chapter. But, I hope you enjoyed. Please review.

And sorry if anyone (cough:Sinister:cough) seems out of character. I'm trying to get the hang of things, but, you know what, if anything, I'm sure we can blame AU.

Also, about ¾ of what I say about Gambit's powers will be loosely based off of that whole "New Sun" arc in the comics. And Jonda might be making their appearance next chapter...but don't hold me too that.

AND DON'T FORGET! THE VOTE FOR KITTY'S ROMANTIC INTEREST IS NOW OPEN!!

REVIEW!!


	3. Beginnings

Adrian: I'm baaaack! Again! ...And I'm _seriously_ neglecting my other story to write this...Damn. Oh, well. But, yeah, HOPEFULLY Jonda will make their appearance this chapter...but I said that last time and it didn't happen...though last chapter did come out pretty long, you have to admit. That was six whole pages of hard work right there. That shows just how much I love this story. I so should have written this a long time ago. Dang, now I'm rambling. Anyway, if Rogue starts acting more comic-like, I'm sorry. I'll try to keep her in Evo-character, but, well, they're practically similar personality-wise, anyway (other than the whole Goth thing), so it gets kind of hard to differentiate. As for Gambit, well...that's all I'm gonna say on that matter. Anyway, here's the next chapter!

Oh, yeah, one more thing: I just felt the need to say this. This story is a story about GAMBIT with ROGUE IN IT, because I'm tired of all the stories about ROGUE with GAMBIT IN THEM. My favourite Cajun needs some lovin', too.

**Disclaimer:****  
There once was an author named Chibi  
Who decided to tell a big fib-by  
She said that she owned  
Because X-Men, they pwned  
And now she's stuck livin' in priz-zy.**

**So, if any lesson you must take,  
Take it off the decision I make  
If I lied and said 'I own'  
Into prison, I wouldst so be thrown.**

STILL LISTENING TO: _**Beat It**_**, Fall-Out Boy; **_**Get Out Alive**_**, Three Days Grace**

**Out of the Frying Pan

* * *

**

**Chapter Two: Beginnings**

_Seattle, Washington:  
June 12 – 12:49 A.M._

He looked different, she noticed. In fact, Rogue probably wouldn't have recognized him at all if his eyes hadn't been open a slit, exposing those very revealing eyes. Two years certainly had changed the Cajun – that was for sure – the southern girl mused as she ran a gloved hand through his long hair...which seemed to have darkened a shade or two as well.

"Ah see ya finally took my advice and shaved," the girl whispered as she gently lifted her secret crush into her arms, careful of his broken bones. Falling four stories could do that to you. "Good, 'cause that goatee was horrible."

A call of "Comin' back up sometime tonight, Stripes?" interrupted the female mutant's musings.

"Aw, stuff it, Logan! Have some patience, Ah'm comin' up!" the Rogue yelled back at him. Honestly, the nerve of the man! Interrupting her re-acquaintance with the unconscious Gambit. Even if she was mad at the Cajun, Wolverine had no right! Huffing, Rogue shifted the cataleptic body in her arms and levitated herself out of the hole she had created.

"Glad to see you finally made it back," Logan grunted.

"You know, Logan, we would'a appreciated it if you'd told us who we were rescuin', if you knew who it was," she growled, having half a mind to punch him...but, no. He'd just give her more Danger Room sessions, and Rogue did NOT want to spend her entire summer as a giant mass of bruises.

"Yeah, like, that's so not cool," Kitty added.

"I am inclined to agree with the girls," Nightcrawler spoke up, and slowly the rest of the X-team was nodding in agreement, exempting Sage.

"Does it really matter?" Tessa challenged them. "You would've come and helped even if you had known, wouldn't you have?" At the guilty looks crossing most of their faces (Rogue, Kitty, Jean, and Cannonball apparently would have), she glared. "You call yourselves X-Men? X-Men are supposed to help people no matter the circumstances. They're supposed to give _second_ _chances_. Besides, from what I've heard, if anyone has a right to not want to help, it would be Rogue. And does she have a problem helping him? No. So get off your high horse and help a mutant in need."

"Couldn't'a said it better myself," Logan grinned. "Does anyone think otherwise?" he growled, popping out his metal claws on one hand. The rest quickly shook their heads 'no'. "Thought not."

"Um...it's great to be standing here and discussing this and all," Jubilee began, "But if we're going to help him, shouldn't we be getting him back to the mansion and, you know, medical care?"

All eyes turned to gaze at the passed out Cajun in Rogue's arms.

Scott cleared his throat. "Right. X-Men, back to the Blackbird." That's what he said, but really his mind was on one thing: Sleep.

_**X-Mansion**__  
Bayville, New York:  
June 12 – 6:15 A.M._

"Well, goodnight, everyone," Scott announced, standing up from the controls.

"Wait a minute!" Kitty protested. "You're, like, team leader! Shouldn't you be, like, the first one to help take Gambit down to the Med-Lab?"

"First of all," Scott snapped, finally fed up with this whole thing. "Rogue is perfectly able to handle that by herself. Secondly, I don't like him. I could care less about what happens to him. Thirdly, unlike you, I'm taking summer courses because I'm in college. And you know what that means? I have a test in," he glanced at his watch, "three hours that I'm not ready for and will most likely fail because I had to spend the entire night out searching for the stupid idiot who apparently can't control his stupid powers! So when I say goodnight, goodnight!" And with that, their Fearless Leader stormed out of the jet. Kitty jumped up to go after him, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Leave him," Jean said softly. "He's just a little frustrated and a lot tired right now."

"Well, I hate to burst up your little party, but could y'all move outta the way, please? Like you said, Kitty, I've got a Cajun that needs takin' to the Med-Lab," Rogue announced from behind them. Both girls turned to see her standing right there, tapping her foot impatiently (unaware of the dent that that put into the floor).

"Oh, like, sorry," Kitty laughed, stepping out of the way.

"Thank you," Rogue snapped, storming down the ramp.

"Well, _someone's_ in a pissy mood," she heard Kitty say from behind her. "I think someone's in loove."

"Ah'm not in love with the stupid Swamp Rat!" she screamed back, only to be met with the sound of laughter and Logan's warning growl:

"You better not be, Stripes!"

The untouchable girl chuckled to herself, examining the handsome figure in her arms. "But just because I don't love him doesn't mean Ah think he ain't cute. Or that his eyes ain't the most beautiful I've ever seen."

Remy shifted slightly in her arms, breaking off Rogue's train of thought.

"Aw, what the hell am Ah thinkin'? The Cajun may be hot, but he's still an arrogant jerk-ass," she announced. "Like hell Ah would even think o' datin' him. That rotten, slime-bag of a Swamp Rat. He had the audacity to kidnap me (me!), and then we actually connect! We were almost friends. We could've been friends. He gave me his freakin' Queen-o'-Hearts card. And then Ah don't see hide nor hair of him for, what, almost two whole years! Who does he think he is, anyway? Ah mean—"

"I hate to interrupt your musings, dear girl, but, ah...if you actually want me to help him, you're going to have to let go."

Rogue blinked and looked up, coming face to face with Dr. McCoy who was attempting to extract her Swamp Rat from her arms. Somehow during her rantings she had managed to actually make her way to the MedBay.

The stripe-haired girl laughed nervously, releasing her (impossibly) strong grip. "Sorry about that, Beast...Ah was a li'l distracted."

Hank grinned at her. "Yes, I can see that. Next time, though, you might want to try talking to yourself quietly. You never know when Miss Pryde will be listening and have the opportunity to acquire sufficient blackmail for the rest of your lifetimes."

Rogue flushed. "Raght. Sure."

"Now, off to bed. You can stop by this afternoon to see him..._after_ you're well-rested."

"Sure thang, Beast. Night."

"Good night, Rogue."

And with that the not-quite-love struck girl walked out of the MedBay, leaving her almost-love to get fixed up while she caught up on her sleep.

_**Brotherhood Boarding House**__  
Bayville, New York:  
June 12 – 11:23 A.M._

"ST. JOHN ALLERDYCE!!" resonated through the boarding house, shaking it from the very foundation.

"Wow, she shakes the place up more than you do," a humongous, bald teenager commented to another teen sprawled out on the couch.

"Ugh, shut up, Blob," said sprawled teen hissed out, burying his face deeper into the cushions of the worn couch.

"We-told-you-not-to-drink-so-much, Lance," the third person in the room announced.

"Pietro, if you don't shut up you're going to find yourself six feet under—_literally_," Came the slightly muffled response.

The silver-headed young man was about to shoot back some snappy comment when a bright-orange-haired man burst into the room.

"Hide me!" the red-headed Aussie exclaimed, in a near panic.

Lance raised his head up ever-so-slightly, suddenly feeling as if his hangover wasn't quite so bad after all. "What'd you do to piss off Wanda this time?" he asked.

"It wasn't me fault!" John cried, searching desperately around the room for some place to hide from the hormonal teenage girl. "How was I supposed to know the Sheila was bathing? I thought she'd headed over to the X-geeks to hang out with Remy's sheila again!"

Pietro's eyes narrowed tremendously. There was a brush of wind and he was suddenly in front of the pyromaniac, a hand fisted in the red-head's T-Shirt.

"_First_ of all, when are you going to deal with the fact that not only is Rogue not, nor has she ever been, Gambit's girl, Gambit hasn't been around for all of two years, so even if she was, I can guarantee they're not together anymore," the speeding mutant growled out at a normal rate for once (which was extremely slow by his standards), "_Secondly_, YOU SAW MY SISTER NAKED?!"

"Oy, mate, calm down!" the Aussie exclaimed, putting his hands up to try and placate his girlfriend's over-protective brother. "It was an accident!"

"This is surprising," Lance mused as he sat up (nothing was a better cure for a hangover than watching Pietro or Wanda trying to murder John). "You mean they aren't sleeping together?"

John turned bright red. "Of course we're not sleeping together! I may be thought of as crazy to some, or most, but that doesn't mean that I don't have values!"

Pietro growled low in his throat. "What are you trying to say about my sister?" he demanded, before a blue light enveloped his body and he found himself slammed into the wall. The insanely fast mutant looked up to see his scantily-clad sister walk into the room, a scowl on her face.

"DON'T touch my boyfriend," the black and red-haired girl growled before turning to said boyfriend. "You okay?"

"Just peachy, love," the certifiably insane mutant grinned. "'Sides," he added, casting a sidelong look at his more-likely-than-not-future brother-in-law. Sitting there all smug like that, John couldn't help but want to get a jibe in at the younger man. "We all know he doesn't know Christmas from Bourke Street."

"What did you say about me?!" Pietro exclaimed, jumping up in outrage. He didn't know what that had meant, but he just _knew_ it was insulting.

"Sit back down!" Wanda roared, a blue glow beginning to fizzle to life around her hands. Her twin brother 'eep'ed and quickly sat back down. "Now, John," she smiled sweetly, a fact that freaked out every other boy in the room (who wanted to leave but knew that if they moved her attention would be focussed on _them_). "You're my boyfriend, right?"

"Uh...yeah, that's right," he replied nervously, not sure he liked the direction this was heading.

"And you just walked in on me naked. And then you walked out. Do I not _interest_ you enough or something?!" she ended in a snarl.

"No, sheila, nothing like that! I nearly crack a fat every time I look at you, but you know I've sworn not to have a naughty with anyone but me cook! I'm not a root rat like Remy."

The other boys blinked. Lance leaned over to Pietro. "Do you have any idea what he just said?" the earth-elemental whispered to the speedster.

"Don't quote me on this, but I think he just said that he doesn't want Wanda because he's sworn to only have sex with his chef..."

Pyro whipped his head around, glaring at them. "I said with me cook! You know...my wife!" he snapped, more than a little miffed at no one being able to understand a thing he said.

"Oh, that clears up a few things," Lance muttered to himself, stretching.

"If that's the case, you have my full approval to be with my sister as long as you don't marry her," Pietro nodded, before finding himself in another wall a second later.

"No one asked you, dearest brother," Wanda jeered, a malicious look on her face as she turned back to her wayward boyfriend. "Now, sweetie, you and I need to have a _little_ talk." Her voice was low and guttural as she said that, and it made her all the more menacing as the red-headed Aussie backed away from her. Soon, though, his back hit the wall and St. John Allerdyce found himself trapped with a psychotic, powerful mutant bearing down on him. Just as he closed his eyes tight and her glowing hand raised to strike, salvation came in the sound of a ringing doorbell. Everyone froze.

"Will someone go get that already?" Wanda demanded after the ringing had persisted for a good few minutes and not one of the guys in the room had moved to get it (with John being the exception, but Wanda had just slammed him back towards the wall).

"I got it, I got it," Lance muttered, pushing himself out of his relatively comfortable spot on the worn-down couch. The ringing stopped a few moments after the earth-shaker had disappeared from sight, and the low murmur of voices could be heard echoing from the direction of the front door. Almost as suddenly as he had disappeared, Lance reappeared, a familiar enemy in tow.

"Wanda, Ah'd appreciate it if you could stop from killin' Pyro for a few minutes. Ah need a' have a couple o' words with him," Rogue drawled out in that southern twang of hers.

"Fine, take him," the mistress of probabilities snapped, sending him flying over to Rogue, who caught him with no problem (of course, the super-strength helped. A lot.)

"Uh...g'day, sheila," St. John laughed nervously, peering up into Rogue's green eyes. "What can I do ya for?"

Rogue rolled her eyes and dropped the arsonist. "Ah would like to extend an invitation to you to come to the mansion later on tahday. Like, maybe, this evening."

Pyro frowned. "Why would I want to come hang out with a bunch o' conches like you lot? ...Excluding you, of course, Rogue," the Australian quickly corrected.

"Ah didn't think you would wanna hang out with us. The invitation wasn't to hang out with us. It was to come hang out with Gambit."

There was a faint moment of silence as the red-head processed what she was saying, a hand in his ginger hair. Then suddenly, a huge grin broke out across his handsome face. "Remy's back!" he exclaimed, excitement evident in his voice as he jumped up and squeezed the life out of Rogue, who stiffened exponentially at the close contact. Holding her at arm's length once more, Rogue could nearly feel the enthusiasm rippling through one of Remy's closest friends. "How's the bloody bastard doing?"

**TBC...**

Adrian: Well, Jonda made their appearance! And I'm quite happy with the way it turned out, too. Unfortunately, this chapter was seriously lacking in Gambit-action. Next chapter, though. Although, we did get insight into Rogue's thoughts. And, if you didn't notice, I'm so tired of the whole "I can't love nobody 'cause I can't touch 'em!" train of thought Rogue usually spirals into. Therefore, Rogue's whole premise for not wanting to be WITH Remy is that he's a jackass. A handsome jackass, but a jackass none-the-less. And she doesn't mean that in the affectionate way John does when he calls Remy a bastard.

And I also decided to go far a...different...approach to John and Wanda's relationship. Let's see how well they manage to work out...and if they end up married by the end of the story or not.

But, yeah, I hope you liked this chapter! I hit seven pages this time! But, yeah, bye-bye for now!

REVIEW!!


	4. Awake

Adrian: Well, I'm back again. Didja miss me? Didja? I'm glad you did! Well, in this wonderful chapter, everyone's favourite X-Man (or favourite Cajun X-Man...whatever) finally wakes up. How will this affect, well...everything? In a big way, I'm sure. Also, more Pyro. Though, let me tell you, he is an ASS to write. I've got this huge dictionary of Australian Slang sitting in front of me (that I sincerely hope is correct, but how would I even know?) so that I can keep him in character as "Australian". And not, say, "British". But, yeah. So, I sit there skimming down the list. I swear, by the time I'm finished with this story (and any subsequent sequels it may or may not have –hint—hint– ) I'll be proficient in Australian Slang. Yay for me. Anyway, here's the next chapter.

Disclaimer: See last chapter. I don't feel like creating anything catchy at the moment.

**Out of the Frying Pan

* * *

**

**Chapter Three: Awake**

_**X-Mansion**__  
Bayville, New York:  
June 12 – 11:07 A.M._

Deep in the bowels of the X-Mansion, in the room known to the inhabitants as the Med-Lab, one exceptionally confused mutant by the name of Remy LeBeau awoke. At first, he was utterly disoriented and unable to clearly distinguish in his mind what had happened. However, as the red-and-black eyed mutant glanced around at the unfamiliar territory, he began to piece together what he remembered. And, seeing how the last thing he remembered was those other mutants trying to capture him for a _scientist_, and he had woken up in a _lab_, you can probably imagine that Gambit did the most reasonable thing he could think of at the moment: he panicked. In all actuality, that was anything but the most reasonable thing he could've chosen to do at the moment considering the unstable state of his mutation at the moment, but all rationality had fled his mind, and everywhere he looked, and the gurney upon which he sat began to glow, first a pale yellow, then a light orange which turned into a bright magenta, that transformed into a bright crimson. It spread and spread, and when Remy noticed what was going on, he only freaked out more which caused it to not only spread, but to glow brighter. And before the entire thing blew to kingdom come, one phrase escaped the unfortunate young mutant's lips.

"Not again..."

The resulting explosion rocked the mansion from its very foundations, effectively waking up all the students who hadn't had the chance to sleep last night due to their unplanned trip to Seattle.

"What was that?" Jubilee asked nervously, glancing over to her roommate, Tessa. Tessa looked up, a blank look adorning her pretty face.

"If my calculations are correct," the computer-brained girl began monotonously, "Then that would be Mr. Remy LeBeau, more commonly known as Gambit, waking up in our MedLab, losing control of his highly unstable and explosive powers, and blowing it apart so that there's nothing left."

"He just blew up the Med-Lab?!" the Asian girl exclaimed.

"Yes, I believe he did," Tessa continued. "However, I also believe that no harm or injury came to his person because his powers protected him as they did last night."

"Are you, like, by any small chance, psychic or something?" Jubilation questioned with a frown.

"No." Sage glared as she said that. "I just know a lot."

"Well, that's fine. If that's all, I'm going to go back to sleep. Night, Sage. Or morning, rather."

"Whatever."

However, before Jubilee could retreat to sleep and Tessa could do...whatever it was that she usually did, the sound of people running out into the hall forced the two of them to get up and get dressed.

"Even when the professor gives us a free day, we still end up having to wake up early for some sort of crisis," the Asian teenager grumbled as she wandered out into the hallway after the other kids. Jubilee continued to grumble in the same way the whole trip down to the ground floor of the mansion, Sage rolling her eyes as she trailed behind her. As soon as they made it down the stairs, the voices of other teens in the mansion shouted assaulted their ears.

"Like, what's going on?"

"Is the mansion under attack?"

"Is the professor alright?"

"Vhat happened?"

"Is everyone okay?"

And, above all the ruckus, one voice reigned supreme.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!!"

Immediately, there was silence. Jubilee and Sage walked into the living room to find everyone cowering in fear of a very pissed off Wolverine.

"So," Jubilee spoke up in complete ignorance of the horrified looks she recieved, popping her gum, "What _was_ that?"

Logan roared.

_11:49 A.M._

Rogue frowned as she made her way up the mansion drive. It was quiet. _Too_ quiet. Something had obviously happened here if no one was screaming at Sam and/or Bobby for pranking them. Cautiously, the stripe-haired girl crept into the mansion, even more disturbed at the stillness that greeted her upon entering. Jean's residue psyche in her head pointed out that there were minds downstairs.

'The basement?' the southern girl mused to herself. 'Why the hell would the entire school be down in the sub-levels?' With a shrug, though, Rogue figured it wouldn't matter much if she checked it out. So, ever so quietly, she slunk over and down the emergency stairs. When she reached the door, the female mutant slowly counted to herself before pushing it open...and being greeted with a shout of, "ROGUE!" right in front of her face.

Rogue jumped back, a quickly-stifled scream erupting from her mouth to Sam and Bobby's eternal amusement (it was a good thing Roberto and Ray weren't here, else she'd never hear the end of it).

The goth girl scowled and slowly advanced on the laughing boys. They were so caught up in their laughter that they didn't even see her coming. The strong girl grinned menacingly and moved in for the kill...

"Rogue! Like, it's so good that you're back! We could, like, totally use your help. Hey, what are you doing?"

Disappointed at not being able to exact revenge, the green-clad mutant turned to her roommate.

"Uh...I ain't doin' nothin', Kitty, why d'ya ask? By the way, why is the entire mansion in the basement?"

Kitty laughed nervously. "Well, you know, Gambit woke up."

"And?"

"Well, he kind of, sort of, maybe blew up the Med-Lab."

"He WHAT?!"

"And we're possibly, maybe, digging him out...just a bit."

"You're WHAT?!"

"Ah! Rogue! You're back!" exclaimed Jean, appearing out of nowhere. Rogue blinked in confusion as Jean grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to where the Med-Lab had used to stand (it was only by pure chance that the professor had decided to have the floor of the mansion reinforced with adamantium, else half the mansion would've been caved in by now). "Good," the red-headed telepath continued. "That means you can help haul boulders and the like because I've got a headache. Besides, I've already cleared most of the path, you should be able to get in there in no time."

"Just a quick question," the southern girl drawled out.

"Yes?"

"Why the hell didn't you just send Kitty in there to pull him out?"

The surrounding X-Men who were also helping clear the debris paused and turned to Jean, all wondering why they hadn't had that idea. Jean, in turn, twisted around to look at Scott. "Well?" she asked her boyfriend.

"Uh...we didn't think about it?" he offered with a weak chuckle. Rogue scowled.

"Kitty! Get ovah here!" she yelled. Shadowcat quickly appeared through the wall next to them.

"Yeah?" the intangible girl asked sweetly.

"Please. Save us all the trouble and go drag the Swamp Rat outta that mess."

Kitty blinked. "Of course! Like, why didn't I think of that! I'll be, like, right back!" And with that she disappeared into the mass of concrete and steel in front of her.

**xXxXxXxXxXx**

Remy didn't know how long he'd sat there, but it had to have been a while. On the bright side, his powers seemed to be under control for the moment...if you counted that incessant glow he was radiating as under control. But, hey, he wasn't blowing anything up. That was good at least. So, he sat there and waited for something to happen. Sometime during the wait, he must have drifted off because the next thing he knew he was looking straight up into the X-Man Kitty Pryde's face.

"_Petite_?" he exclaimed, sitting straight up.

"Hi!" she giggled. "You're, like, not wearing a shirt." She giggled again. Remy glanced down to see that the robe he'd been wearing had opened up and, indeed, he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Ah...non. M'not."

"You're, like, _really_ sexy." Once more, Shadowcat giggled. The energy-projector groaned in frustration. Under normal circumstances, he'd be more than happy to return the girl's obvious feelings for him. They were so obvious that you didn't need to be an empath to see them.

"Are y'gonna get me outta here or...?"

"Oh. Right." One more giggle on her part. Then she grabbed his arm and he suddenly felt the most nauseating feeling of things passing right through him.

"Dat," he groaned once he was safely out on the other side, "Is _disgustin'_."

"Then it's right up yer alley, huh, Swamp Rat?" a voice called.

Gambit glanced up and the sight he saw made a grin burst out on his face. "_Mon_ _chère_!" he exclaimed. "It's been a while!"

"A while?" she scoffed, poking him in the chest. "Try two years, ya filthy Cajun jackass. Where the hell have ya been?"

Remy blinked. He certainly hadn't been expecting _this_. "Uhh..."

"No! Don't try to B.S. your way outta this! Ah want the truth and Ah want it now!"

"Well—"

"Quit lyin'!"

"But Ah—"

"Ah knew Ah couldn't get a straight answer outta you! Ya can't tell anything but a lie, can you?!" she demanded.

"Jus' shut up an' listen already!" he shouted, so caught up in Rogue's own anger that he lost control of his own and several objects in the area exploded.

The noise of the explosions caught everyone's attention, and the out-of-control mutant got a sheepish look on his face. "Uh...oops?" he offered.

"Oh, yeah, 'oops'. Ah bet that's all you have to say about blowin' up the Med-Lab, too, raght? 'Oops'?"

"Désolé?" he tried.

"Sorry don't fix the Med-Lab, sugah!" Rogue exclaimed, jabbing her almost-ex-boyfriend (only almost because they'd never actually dated in the first place) too hard in the chest, hurting his already-bruised ribs further and sending him back a couple feet.

"What de hell?" he wondered aloud.

"Uh, Rogue, Gambit, calm down," Jean ordered, stepping in between the two wannabe-daters. "Remy, the professor wants to speak to you. Upstairs. In his study. He'll answer any questions you have about how you're here. And he'll also want to ask you about—"

Remy cut her off before the telepath could finish. "Ah ain't joinin' no team. 'Specially not yours."

"Oh?" Rogue taunted. "So Ah guess you're just gonna go wanderin' about uncontrolled until you blow up yourself and whoever happens to be in the vicinity with you at the tahme?"

"What are y'sayin'?" he asked darkly, a glare settling over his handsome features.

"We know you're powers are on the blitz, Swampie. And this destruction here? The Med-Lab? That just proves it. Ya need help."

He was tempted to argue. Oh, he was so tempted to argue. But in the end, he made a choice. With a sigh, he conceded. Best to avoid possibly blowing up a _person_ next.

"Fine. Where do Ah go?"

TBC...

Adrian: Hey, all! Sorry it took so long for me to update. I've been busy. But at least I've still got the story on my brain! So, the next update should be sooner. Sorry.

Oh, and Storm and Piotr should be in the next chapter. Hopefully.

Read and Review!


	5. Cards

Adrian: No, your eyes deceive you not! I am, indeed, updating in a timely fashion...hopefully. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It will have lots of Gambit (as usual), lots of Rogue (also, as usual), and lots of Jonda (I hope). So, enjoy.

Oh! And one more thing. Because Remy is officially awake now, this story will be shifting more to his point of view, rather than following Rogue around (though it will pan back and forth).

Disclaimer: Why would I even want to own X-Men? I mean, of course I could do whatever I wanted with the characters, and I would also be a millionaire, AND I would be famous (enough)...but why would I want that? That's just crazy!

Current Listening:_**Beat It,**_** by Fall-Out Boy feat. John Mayer; **_**Sugar, We're Goin' Down**_**, by Fall-Out Boy; **_**Get Out Alive,**_** by Three Days Grace**

**Out of the Frying Pan

* * *

**

**Chapter Four: Cards**

_**X-Mansion**__  
Bayville, New York:  
June 12 – 12:05 P.M._

"Well, Remy? Will you accept my invitation to stay here?" Professor Xavier asked from behind his desk.

Gambit, slouching on the chair in front of the desk, frowned as he considered his options. He could choose not to stay and end up right back where he'd started (that is, homeless with evil mutants chasing him halfway around the country), or he could stay here. At the mansion. With _rules_. Of course, if he stayed here, he would be getting help for his rapidly-evolving powers. If he left, he'd more than likely, as Rogue said, end up blowing himself and everyone in the vicinity up when his powers officially went berserk (because destroying a twelve-story building was just normal and not berserk).

"Do Ah really have a _choice_?" he growled under his breath, not at all liking the hand he had been dealt.

"You always have a choice, Remy," the Professor replied. "It's up to you whether or not you make the right one."

"_Non_, _Professeur_," the young Cajun responded forlornly. "Y'don't always have a choice. Sometimes y'just gotta fold."

"You could always play your cards."

"Just to lose even worse? _Non, merci, Professeur._"

"But that's the thing about gambling," the paraplegic man countered, a wry smile on his aging face. "You never know when the worst hand you've gotten may actually win you the game."

"Didn't know y'knew 'bout gambling," the younger mutant stated in surprise.

"I'm not _that_ old."

"_Non_, Ah just t'ought y'were too stiff."

Xavier laughed. "You certainly are a most intriguing young man, Remy. I'll give you some time to think over your decision, but I do hope you'll join us."

"Ah've made up m'mind already. Ah'll stay, but Ah ain't joinin' no team," Remy huffed, slouching even more as he folded his arms across his chest. "Only reason Ah'm stayin' is 'cause Ah got no place else t'stay once m'powers kick back in, and Ah really don' feel like blowin' up everythin' in sight."

The professor frowned at this news. "What do you mean by 'kick back in'?"

"Well, Ah just blew up two huge t'ings, dey gotta recharge 'fore Ah start destroyin' everythin' around again." The Cajun said all this with a casual shrug, as if this was common knowledge. "Ah'd give it, mebbe, an hour or two."

Charles's frown deepened at the thought of his mansion in shambles. That had already happened far too often, as it was, and the bald man felt he would run out of money pretty soon at the way things were going. "Well, we'll just have to see how it goes, I suppose."

Now the red-eyed mutant frowned. "Y' don't have anything dat could...I don' know, turn it off or somethin'?" he asked.

"You won't gain control by turning it off, Remy," Professor Xavier replied.

"Oui, but Ah would hate to, um, well, y'know...blow someone up by accident," he mumbled.

Now, _this_ caught the professor's attention. "You can charge organic, living things?"

"Oui, since m'powers first evolved."

"When did they first evolve? And evolve again?"

"Lessee, dey first evolved sometime after Rogue came back...mebbe a year and a half ago, _non_? And den about...9 months ago, t'ings Ah looked at started goin' boom. An' in January it all went _fou_. Ah just started destroyin' everything. Couldn't control it none."

"You've been on your own with your powers out of control for six months? Why didn't you come here? Surely you knew we wouldn't turn you away."

Remy quirked an eyebrow at the old man. Well, old to him, anyway. "M'sieur, Ah don't t'ink y' get it. Ah spent a whole year tryin' t' kill you people. This ain't de first place Ah t'ink of when Ah need help."

"But all the same," the bald professor continued to try. When the young man gave him another _look_, Charles decided to just drop it. "Is there anything else I should know about your abilities?"

Gambit paused for a moment, contemplating informing the Professor about his _other_ gift before deciding against it. Even Magneto hadn't known about it. The only people who did know were John and Piotr, the two people in the world that he actually trusted (because, as much as he loved Rogue, he still didn't, truly, trust her). "Non, dat's about it."

"Very well, then," Xavier concluded, opening a drawer in his desk and pulling something out. He tossed a round, metallic object to the red-eyed mutant. "This will nullify your powers for you." The brunette eyed it warily as he turned it around in his hands.

"It's a collar," he finally concluded.

"Yes, a power-negating collar. As long as you wear it, you should not be able to use your powers at all, accidentally or purposely."

"Y' want me to _wear_ it."

"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to, but you did ask if there was a way to turn your powers off, if temporarily."

"Y' keep a power-negating collar in your desk drawer?" Remy asked incredulously.

Xavier's lips twitched as he struggled to contain his laughter. "Only for the particularly bad students," he replied, barely able to maintain a straight face.

"What's next, shock collars for y' local pet Wolverine?"

"The shock collars only come out in extreme circumstances," the professor joked. "But speaking of Logan, you need to go talk to him. He will inform you of all our rooms and procedures, as well as allot you your new room assignment. I'm glad you've decided to try us out, and I hope you enjoy your stay, Remy."

"Jus' one question, _Professeur_. Do Ah really have t' talk to de Wolverine?" If it was possible, the auburn-haired mutant had slumped even lower into his chair at the thought of facing the hairy mutant.

"Yes, Remy, you have to talk to Logan," Charles stated firmly. "You'll be alright. Wolverine does not bite."

"It's not de bitin' Ah'm afraid of."

_12:23 P.M._

Remy gulped nervously as Wolverine eyed him up and down. He was expecting three claws to pop out and gut him any minute now.

"I can smell yer fear, Cajun," the Canadian feral growled as he continued to size the Cajun brat up.

"Look, if y' gonna kill me, jus' do it already. Ah can't take all o' dis suspense."

"Today's yer lucky day, Gumbo. I'm not in a killin' sorta mood. So instead, I'll just give you a warnin': you mess with Rogue, you die. If you screw her over, I will gut you."

Remy frowned as he twirled Xavier's power-neutralizer around his finger. "Ah ain't gonna screw her. Well, not in de metaphorical sense, anyway. Physically, now..." And there was that snarky, annoying, perverted grin.

"You screw her in _any_ way and I'll _personally_ introduce you to my claws, got it?"

"Oui, oui, now about dose," he paused here, with a shiver of disgust, "_rules_."

"Oh, they should be easy enough to remember. No smoking, no drinking, no gambling, no girls in boys' rooms, no boys in girls' rooms, no staying out past 10, and, best of all, no stealing." Logan said all of this with an _exceptionally_ malicious grin.

Gambit was horrified. "Y' take all de fun outta life!" he protested. "And you do all dose t'ings!"

"Gumbo, when you make the rules, you can break them all you want. Now, as for your room assignment, I thought about sticking you with Cyclops—"

"Non, y' can't do somet'in' dat cruel!" The red-eyed mutant cut him off.

"Heh, maybe I should've," Logan mumbled under his breath before continuing. "But, unfortunately, I'm not that cruel. You'll be rooming with an old buddy, he's on a mission right now, should be back sometime tomorrow."

"An old buddy…?" the young man wondered.

"Yeah," the much hairier mutant responded. "Colossus. Get Scott or Kurt or someone to show you where his room is."

A slow grin drew itself over Remy's face and an evil glint twinkled in his eye. "Petey. _Merci beaucoup, M'sieur_."

The feral mutant frowned. "I really _should_ have stuck him with Scott," the man muttered as he turned away from the Cajun. "Now, get outta here," he said aloud to Gambit. "Oh, and one last thing. Never, _ever_ touch my bike."

"Sure t'ing, _homme_," Gambit replied, his easy grin turning downright wicked. "Ah'll keep dat in mind."

And with that he sauntered off to go find Scott or Kurt or someone.

_**Hidden Base  
**__Unspecified Location:  
June 12 – 1:39 P.M._

An imposing figure marched down the metal hallway, his cape swelling out behind him. Things were progressing much too fast for his liking, not to mention that Essex getting involved would seriously impede his plans. In hindsight, though, he should've known that the crazed scientist would want such a fine specimen of a mutant to add to his collection. Omega class mutants were, in and of themselves, a very rare breed. Omega class mutants not under his or Charles's protection were even more so, and despite the fact that Gambit was currently residing at Xavier's mansion, it wouldn't be long until the restless Cajun grew tired of the rules there and took off on his own, whether or not he could control his newly increased powers.

"Magnus," a voice cut through his musings. Magneto looked over to see a bountifully endowed blonde woman leaning against the hallway wall.

"Mystique," he replied as the female mutant pushed herself off of the wall and changed back into the blue-skinned creature she was.

"The new team is fully assembled."

"Good," his voice boomed in reply. Now he just had to make sure that when Gambit finally decided to leave the X-Men, he got to the younger mutant before Essex did…but he wanted to prolong Remy's stay with them for as long as possible. It was time for a talk with Charles.

**TBC…**

Adrian: Hello, everyone. Sorry it took me so long to finally get this updated, but it's done now! I'm sad to admit that I've neglected my story because I've been caught up in reading Ironman/Avengers fanfiction. But I'm back now! And now Magneto's involved. Ooh.

And, in case you're wondering, Magnus's new team will comprise of Exodus, Banshee, Dazzler, Unus, and Peepers. I may or may not add in a couple more, but that seems good enough for now.

And don't forget to tell me who you want to see Kitty with.

Thanks for reading!

Review!


	6. Secrets

Adrian: Okay, so I don't know if this will be true or not, but I'm hoping that this chapter will be finished and updated super-quickly after the last one. I'll know by the bottom author's notes. Anyway, here goes nothing!

Oh! One more thing. I got to thinking about the Marvel Universe the other day (mainly because I've been checking out the Avengers lately) and I was thinking about how Wanda and Pietro are part of the Avengers in the actual comics. So I figured, hey! Wouldn't it be funny to see a very-teenaged Ironman? A teenaged _Captain_ _America_? Teenaged Spider-man would've come next except for the very fact that he's been a teenager in more than half of his comics. Therefore, I would just like to take this moment to announce that this story will, more likely than not, have appearances by our very favourite teenaged-Avengers. And Spider-man. Wanda and Pietro may or may not end up with them yet, I'm not entirely sure. Either way, teenage!Captain America is a vastly entertaining concept (although I'm still not sure whether or not it's funnier than a teenage!Ironman appearing in this story...so both will). And if they're not in this PARTICULAR story, I'll write a spin-off of this one just to feature that.

And Gambit and Rogue officially have a theme song for this story. It's right there under current listening. Anyone who can guess why gets a cookie. And in case you don't realize, I'm bringing in elements from Gambit and Rogue's comic-verse relationship (i.e. the constant fighting)

CURRENT LISTENING_: __**I'm Like a Lawyer with the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You),**_** by Fall-Out Boy**

**Out of the Frying Pan**

**Chapter Five: Secrets**

_**X-Mansion**__  
Bayville, New York:  
June 12 – 5:53 P.M._

"Dis t'ing itches," Remy commented as he scratched at the metal band about his neck. "But at least Ah'm done now." He smiled as he put the finishing touches on his new room. For someone so artistically inclined, Piotr certainly had been neglectful in decorating his room, so Remy had taken it upon himself to do it for his gigantic friend. Rogue's posters currently lined the white walls of the room (Remy had already broken the no-stealing and no-boys-in-girls'-rooms rules). Cards and clothes were pleasantly littered all over the floor, and the auburn-haired mutant had already taken it upon himself to turn his bed into a mess, despite the fact that he hadn't even laid in it yet. The room now looked pleasantly lived in.

"Ah needa go shoppin'," the Cajun mused to himself as he stared at Piotr's clothes that covered the floor. It had just occurred to him that he had exactly zero possessions at the moment, aside from the things on his back. And those were possibly starting to smell now. Though, it was pretty hard to carry spare clothes and necessities around when everything you touched and/or looked at was blown into oblivion.

"Yeah, you really do," a familiar voice cut through his musings. "I don't think Metal-Man's gonna be too happy if he comes back and sees his clothes all over the floor."

Remy spun around, plastering a grin on his face. "St. John!" he exclaimed. "Dey let you in here peacefully?" Disbelief was evident in his voice.

John's face contorted into a frown. "Only after the scary claw-man confiscated my Sheila."

"Poor you," the twenty-year-old shot back and flopped onto his messy bed. "So, how you know I was here?"

"Eh, your sheila dropped by earlier, told me you were back. Which brings me to my next question: what the bloody hell are you doing hangin' out with these conches? If you're back you should at least have the decency to come join the Brotherhood, rather than hang out with this bunch o' losers."

"Great as dat sounds, de Brotherhood can't help me control my powers none."

The orange-haired mutant narrowed his eyes. "Since when have you not been able to control your powers?" Disbelief was blatantly weaved throughout the Aussie's voice.

"Since dey went _fou_ in _janvier_," came the forlorn reply. "Let's just say it wasn't very _joli_."

"Uh...in English, please?" Pyro responded.

Remy cracked open an eye to shoot him a _look_. "Since when do you speak _le anglais_?"

"At any rate, I speak more English than that broken Cajun-speak you always spout out."

"Ah'm inclined to disagree with that statement," another southern voice cut in. Both men turned to see Rogue standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed, and she was glaring at them through narrowed eyes.

"_Mon chère_!" the Cajun exclaimed. "Y' came to defend m'honour!"

"Ah _came_ to get mah posters back, you thievin' Swamp Rat. And Ah'm not defendin' your honour, Ah'm just sayin' that Southerners speak more English than Australians do."

"But dey look so much better on dese bare walls den on yours, don't you t'ink? And we both know dat you were really defendin' mah honour from de big, terrible mutant."

"Oi! I'm not big or terrible, thank you very much!" John protested.

"Well, y'certainly not big, dat's f'sure," Gambit snickered. Pyro sputtered in disbelief.

"And _how_ would you know just how _big_ he is, Swamp Rat?" Rogue asked, a smirk on her face.

Remy was almost too shocked at her forwardness to respond. _Almost_. "Well, when a _homme_ and a _homme_ get drunk toget'er..."

The Aussie gaped helplessly. "What...when...what did you just say?"

"Oh, Ah'm not insinuatin' anything about you, Sugah, just the Swamp Rat here. Ah know all that womanizin' he does is just compensatin' for something else."

"Well, of course it is!" John exclaimed. "Don't you know what kind of a deprived childhood he had? All of this is just him subconsciously trying to feel accepted and loved, he's just going about it in the wrong way!"

The female mutant watched in awe as John animatedly waved his hands around to illustrate his points.

"Oh, great. Y' got him started." An amused look was plastered on the red-eyed man's face as he sat up.

"He does this a lot?"

"Oh, all de time, really. Just give him an excuse to get started, and Johnny-boy'll lecture y' 'til Kingdom-Come."

John continued on, not even noticing the other conversation that was going on. "I mean, normally I'd blame something like that on having no respect for women, but you have to look at his situation, and where he's coming from, and then you realize that it's all just a cry for attention! Growing up on the streets isn't an easy life in the first place, but it must have been especially difficult for him, what with his eyes and his powers and all—"

"Wait, powers? What powers? Ah know you ain't talkin' about his kinetic abilities, he didn't get those 'til puberty. What powers?" Rogue addressed the last question to Remy, as Pyro was too lost in his own little rant to notice her prodding. What she saw when she turned to the auburn-haired man made her pause. His eyes were burning, and not in the usual, sly way. She'd never seen the colour red look quite so _cold_. His face had all but turned to stone, and when he spoke in was in crisp, clean English that he _never_ used.

"John. Stop talking." The chilling tone in perfect English caught the Australian mutant off guard, silencing him instantly.

"What the hell's he talkin' about, Swamp Rat?" Rogue pressed, gazing at him through mere slits in her eyes.

"S'nothin', _chère_," he responded lightly, pasting an easy grin on his face. His facial muscles were still taught, and his eyes were still hard and cold, though.

"It ain't nothin'," she growled, advancing on him. "If it were nothin' you wouldn't be actin' like that."

"Fine then," he snapped. "It's none of your business."

"Remy," John began, only to be cut off with another look.

"So you don't trust me then, Cajun?" the girl continued, fisting her hands in his shirt. Her accent thickened as she persisted.

"I never claimed to trust you, _Rogue_," Remy responded lowly. His eyes were blazing now and back to the usual, fiery look they had about them.

Rogue snarled and hoisted the man up. The Cajun was momentarily taken aback by her strength; she hadn't had that before. "Don't fuck with me, Swamp Rat."

"Threatening a helpless man, _chère_? Didn't know you had it in you." It was low, it was sarcastic, and it was so much like him.

"Fine, then," she sneered. "If you ain't gonna tell me, Ah'll take it from you mahself."

And then she kissed him.

_6:18 P.M._

Something was up. Logan knew that instantly. He could smell Rogue's scent permeating throughout the hallway in the direction of the boys' dorm. And so, Wolverine did what any good parental figure or student dean (although that wasn't a title he wanted at all) would do. He followed it. As he drifted closer to the hallway the faint sounds of a heated screaming match could be heard. The hairy mutant growled low in his throat as he followed Rogue's scent right to the door of Gambit's room, and the source of the shouts that were resonating through the mansion.

"What the hell's going on here?!" he roared upon opening the door, causing the two arguing teens to falter and fall silent. The crazy fire-mutant from the Brotherhood had backed himself into a corner with a slightly terrified look on his face. Gambit looked tired, but the kind of tired that only came about after a quick draining session from Rogue. And Rogue...she smelt of cayenne pepper and paprika, mixed with the faint smell of charred nicotine. She smelt of him. This, of course, made Wolverine assume the worst.

"I thought I told you not to touch her, Gumbo," the feral snarled. The muscles in his hands rippled, fully prepared to pop out his claws at any moment.

"Ah didn't lay one hand on her," Remy snapped back. "Mebbe y' should ask _her_ what happened 'fore jumpin' to conclusions."

"Well?" Logan growled, turning to his young charge. "What happened?"

"The Swamp Rat is hidin' things, that's what happened."

"T'ings dat ain't none o' y'business!" the Cajun protested. "An' y' had no right t'try and take it from me wit'out mah permission!"

"If it's got to do with your powers, it's damn well mah business!"

"_Non_, it's not! Y' got no right! No right! Y' don't see me tryin' to figure out all y'r secrets, do you, _Rogue_? Ah respect y' privacy!" The jab at her name was not missed by Wolverine.

Rogue opened her mouth to respond, but was abruptly cut off by the self-healing mutant.

"Are you tryin' to say," Wolverine began slowly, "That you, Rogue, purposely used your powers on him to try and extract information that he didn't want to share?"

Rogue nervously looked down at the floor, wringing her hands together behind her back. Her white bangs fell in front of her eyes.

"S'not her fault, _M'sieur_," Remy defended. "Ah could'a controlled m'self better."

Logan faltered a moment at this response. The two of them had been at each other's throats just moments before, and now the Cajun was defending her so that she wouldn't get in trouble. It apparently shocked Rogue as well because the gothic girl had glanced up, her wide green eyes barely visible through her bangs. Maybe he had misjudged the Cajun...His jaw stayed unhinged for a few more seconds until he settled on a solution.

"Doesn't matter," the feral finally replied. "She should know better than to use her powers like that. In any case, she's breaking the rules by being in here, especially with the door closed. So that'll be a week's worth of Danger Room sessions, starting tomorrow. Seven. Be there." And with that, Wolverine turned around and stomped out of the room, seriously considering re-evaluating his opinion of Gambit.

A few moments passed in silence before Rogue broke the quiet. "Why'd ya do that, Swamp Rat? Why'd ya stick up for me?"

Remy shrugged, turning away from her. "It don't matter, but y' might wanna leave 'fore y'get into any more trouble."

Rogue stared at his back for a few more seconds before she turned and left, pausing at the door to say, "Thanks," and then disappearing into the hall.

"Look, mate, I'm really sorry," John finally spoke up. "I didn't realize...I mean, I wasn't thinking...I figured you'd told her."

"S'okay, John," he replied, forcing a smile. "Really. She only held on for a few seconds, so Ah'm sure she didn't get anyt'ing. No harm done."

Pyro could tell that his friend was in one of those moods, so he just shook his head and made his way to the door. "Well, I ought to be going before the Sheila starts wondering where I've got to and comes hunting for me. I guess I'll just...swing by tomorrow?"

"Yeah, dat sounds fine," Gambit responded, slumping onto his bed. "Just shut de door behind you, _sil vous plait_."

John nodded, though the younger man couldn't see, and made his way out of the room, closing the door as he went. Whether or not his Cajun friend would blame him, the fire-elemental had just screwed up royally.

"I'll make it up to you," he muttered under his breath as he hurried out of the mansion. "Promise." And as wild, crazy schemes flew through his head, all was right in his world once more.

**TBC...**

Adrian: Wow. That chapter was intense. I'm mightily proud of it, if I do say so myself. And it was done in an exceptionally timely manner. I hope you all enjoyed. Hopefully, the next chapter will be out just as quickly, but I'm starting a joint Avengers story (in movieverse!Ironman) with my friend that's going to take up some of my time.

And Chibi Kyo-chan, your reviews are wonderful and have been greatly appreciated (and, see? I put John into this chapter!). Thanks for faithfully reviewing!

And please, people, pretty, pretty please: Review! It's even easier now, they put a big, giant button right there, just for you to press it.


	7. Rules

Adrian: Hello, all, I'm back again! I was suddenly struck with inspiration, and when the muse-bunny hits you, you just have to run with it. So, here's chapter six. I hope you all enjoy.

And thanks for the wonderful reviews! You're all amazing!

By the way, I'm thinking of giving this story a second theme song, but that won't come until later, so if you haven't yet listened to _**Me & You**_**, by Fall-Out Boy**, go listen to it. If you can actually figure out what the song means (and, believe me, it's certainly not the easiest song in the world to analyze), you'll understand everything you ever need to know about Gambit and Rogue's relationship (more or less).

Disclaimer: Why would I want to own X-Men? I'd have to deal with, one, all of the messed up worlds in the comics (ugh, don't get me started), the messed up world in the movies (no Gambit. Again, I say, NO GAMBIT! ...or, rather, Taylor Kitsch as Gambit...not that I have anything against the guy, but he's not Gambit), and the messed up world in Evo (honestly, what's with Gambit's hairstyle? Seriously, that's so gay). Basically, I'd have a big job of fixing everything and selling it to people, and all that crap. Of course, I could make the story go however I wanted, but, hey, who'd want that?

**Out of the Frying Pan**

**Chapter Six: Rules**

_**X-Mansion**__  
Bayville, New York:  
June 12 – 8:02 P.M._

The instant Charles wheeled into his office, he knew something was off. A quick telepathic sweep of the room, however, showed that there was nothing there. At least, nothing he could sense. Which could only mean...

"Eric."

"Charles," the person in question responded, stepping out of the shadows.

"What are you doing here, old friend?" the bald man questioned, rolling over to his desk.

"We need to talk," the Master of Magnetism replied. "About your newest charge."

"Ah, young Gambit. I presumed that's what you wanted to discuss, but, take a seat, Magnus. I suppose you desire to talk about his powers? Or is it the threat to his life you're interested in?"

"Both, actually. I'm going to assume that you already know who, exactly, is after him."

"Yes. Nathaniel Essex, more commonly known as Mr. Sinister. He's been decidedly quiet for some years; I'd almost hoped that he'd finally died."

"That's always too much to hope for. He's half the reason that I had a ruined relationship with my daughter."

"Yes, until you decided to brainwash her," Xavier commented lightly, but the implication was blatant.

"We're not here to discuss my family life; we're here to talk about the threat that faces Gambit."

"Which will not be a problem as long as he stays at the mansion. Essex knows well not to mess with my students, or even yours, for that matter."

"And how long do you suppose that he'll stay here? Until he can fully control his abilities? I think not. Gambit is extremely restless by nature; it won't be long until he gets tired of being here, gets tired of your rules, and takes off, more likely than not on Wolverine's motorcycle."

"What are you proposing then?"

"We both know that he can't stay on his own for too long, else Essex will claim him. It's unbelievable that he managed to avoid him for as long as he did. Sinister won't make that mistake again. Therefore, when he leaves here, we need to direct him from you, to me."

"I suppose, as the case may be, I'm stuck choosing the lesser of two evils?" Charles remarked wryly. "And while that may prevent the good doctor from accessing our volatile young charge, he will still need to learn to control his powers, and that is something you cannot provide. Not effectively."

"No, I really don't have the capabilities to train him into a fully-developed empath, but I believe I can find someone to help him control his kinetic gifts."

"Hold on one second," the professor frowned. "An empath? He's an empath?"

Magnus chuckled. "I should have known he wouldn't tell you. He doesn't even know that _I_ know because I only do as I overheard him speaking with Pyro and Colossus one night."

"Piotr and John know?"

"They're his closest friends; they know more about him than anyone else—especially Pyro."

"You realize what the implications of uncontrollable empathy are, do you not?" Charles's eyebrows had furrowed together, and his lips had tightened into a thin white line.

"Why don't you enlighten me?"

"Best case scenario: he goes insane and ends up killing himself."

"And the worst-case scenario?" Magneto prodded, a thin white eyebrow raised beneath his helmet.

"For an omega-class mutant? The possibilities are endless. All end up with him dead in the end. Why do you think there are so few empaths in the world as it is? Thoughts are simple to figure out; easy to discern between your own and others'. Emotions are not nearly so simple. The overload is usually more than the mutant can take. It drives them crazy, in the end. Most times before they reach their prime."

"But you can help him control it."

Xavier folded his hands on top of his desk and heaved a sigh. "Not entirely, no. I am loath to admit that my knowledge on empaths is mostly nonexistent. Going from the base that empathy and telepathy are closely related, I can, though, help him discern between feelings that are his own and feelings that belong to others. He may end up needing someone to ground him to reality."

"As in a telepathic link of sorts?"

"More or less, albeit empathic in nature."

Magnus heaved a sigh and moved to sit into one of the armchairs in the room. "That solves one problem, at the very least. However, we still need to confront the Sinister issue himself. He will not sit silent forever, and Gambit is not the only one he would aim for, whether or not he's Essex's current pastime."

"You're right," the telepath relented, rubbing his brow. "I do so hate to cut short the kids' vacation, though. They get so few breaks as it is, Ororo especially."

"It's for her own safety, Charles. You should probably move Wanda here, as well."

"She's your brainwashed daughter; it's your prerogative to take care of her. If you can get her to agree to moving, she is more than welcome to stay." A sharp glare was sent the bald man's way at the "brainwashed" comment.

"I'm glad we're in agreement," Magnus responded, coming to his feet. "Remy will reside here until he grows antsy, and when he does, I'll be waiting. In the interim, you will help give him the control he needs and move the other Omegas here for their safety." The Master of Magnetism suddenly noticed the curious look that Xavier was shooting his way. "What?"

"You called him Remy."

"Goodbye, Charles," the other mutant replied in a huff, melting back into the shadows. The professor contemplated the conversation that had just taken place momentarily before a small smile broke out on his face.

"You can come out now, Logan," he called. Said man stepped through the door, his claws extended. "I'm assuming you heard everything?"

"Yeah, I heard everything, and I think it's time you told me exactly what the flamin' hell is goin' on, Chuck, before I jump to my own conclusions about why you're making plans with Magneto, of all people." Charles turned fully to peer at Wolverine.

"Have a seat, then," he said. "We have a long conversation ahead of us."

_7:08 P.M._

Remy Etienne LeBeau...was bored. It was seven o' clock in the evening, still bright outside, and he was face down on his bed, willing himself to go to sleep...again. For the first time in months, he didn't have the fear of destroying everything he touched and/or looked at, and he was _lying_ _in_ _bed_.

"Non, non, non!" he exclaimed, jumping up. "Dis won't do. But Ah don't got anything to wear..." The red-eyed mutant scratched his head for a moment before a decidedly wicked grin spread across his face. Cyclops was about his size...and Gambit could make even the dorkiest of clothes look decidedly sexy when they covered his magnificent form. "Dis is gonna piss One-Eye off so bad..." And then he'd be sure to jack Wolverine's motorcycle and stay out until midnight, at the very least. First day here and already breaking all the rules. That's how he rolled. But first! Change of clothes and shower. He _stunk_.

Half an hour later, the Cajun emerged from the bathroom a new man. His freshly shaved face made him look even younger than his twenty years, and with his hair actually _combed_ and pulled into a decidedly _neat_ ponytail, he had evolved into something even greater than man. Something even greater than mutant. As he walked into the girl's wing of the school, all of the females who saw him had one unanimous thought in their minds. It was vocalized most clearly by Kitty, though, who had been hanging out with Jubilee.

"Oh My _Gosh_!" she exclaimed to her Asian friend, his new awesomeness so much better than seeing him without his shirt on earlier. "Gambit is, like, a sex-god!"

And it was undoubtedly true. Not only did he look hot, he seemed to ooze sex appeal from his very pores. Each and every woman in the hall forgot that he used to be their enemy and instead wondered which lucky girl he was here to see. And the door he stopped outside of surprised them all.

The thief then paused and did something he had never done. Remy LeBeau raised his hand...and knocked on the door. Seconds later, it was yanked open by a very flustered green-eyed girl ready to bite anyone's head off who dared to disturb her.

"What the flamin' hell do you—oh," she cut herself off, swallowing thickly as she glanced the sight in front of her up and down. "Oh, wow," escaped from her lips before she her mind caught up with her.

Remy smirked.

Rogue mentally swooned. Outwardly, though, she had caught up with herself and glared, jabbing a finger into his chest. "What the hell are you doin' here, Swamp Rat?"

"Dis humble t'ief," he began, "would like to ask you t'accompany me t'de mall for de acquisition of, uh...some new clothes. You're opinion would be greatly appreciated."

"Are ya askin' me out on a date, Swampie?"

"If dat's de way you wanna take it," Gambit replied, widening his eyes in what he hoped was an innocent manner. With eyes like his, though, innocent was always out of the question. "Ah'll get y'somethin' nice."

The white-banged girl huffed, folding her arms across her chest. "Fahne," she agreed. "Ah'll come with you, but only 'cause Ah ain't got nothin' bettah to do. Gimme ten minutes."

And she slammed the door in his face. Remy grinned happily. He was going out with Rogue! Yes!

Ten minutes later, Rogue opened the door to find her prospective boyfriend loitering in the hallway, legions of girls drooling over him. Well, Jubilee and Kitty, at least. Jean had the decency to do it from the privacy of her own room, and Sage just didn't care (although she DID notice his perfectly chiselled face).

"Let's go," she declared, grabbing onto her Swamp Rat's arm and dragging him down into the garage. "Which car are we takin'?"

"We ain't," he replied.

"What the hell d'ya mean, 'we ain't'?"

"We ain't takin' no car," he reiterated, gazing admiringly at the current love of his life. Rogue noticed this, and followed his gaze, freezing when she realized exactly what he was implying.

"Oh, no. No, no, no!" She exclaimed. "We can't take Logan's bike! He'd skin us alive!"

"Correction: he'd skin me alive. Just say Ah kidnapped you...again." Gambit moved over to the bike, pulling the keys out from somewhere in that ridiculous trench coat that he still had on over Scott's clothes.

"You got some kinda death wish, Cajun?"

"Mebbe Ah do. But livin' safe is borin'," he replied, swinging a leg over the bike. "Now, are y'comin' or not?"

Rogue shook her head in disbelief before climbing up behind him. "Whatevah," she snapped. "But if we get caught, Ah'll kick your ass 'til this side o' tomorrow, you hear me Swampie?"

Remy smirked, revving up the engine. "Loud and clear, _mon_ _chérie_."

**TBC...**

Adrian: Wow, sorry it took me so long to update. And it wasn't even because I've been writing something else. I've just been busy. Sorry. Think of this chapter as my present to you.

'Til next time!

Review.


	8. Damage

Adrian: Hello, all! I'm back with yet another chapter of Remy's continuing adventure. I'm excited about this one because it has ACTION. Yes, people, the Marauders are back. And they're not any nicer. And they've brought the whole team (or at least most of it). Yeah, Gambit and Rogue are not in for the happy shopping experience they thought they were.

Also, I'm _crap_ at writing fight scenes, so if this one sucks, I completely apologize.

Disclaimer: ...Alas, I don't. But! I may or may not own Iron man! ...the movie...

**Out of the Frying Pan

* * *

**

**Chapter Seven: Damage**

_**Bayville Square Mall**__  
Bayville, New York:  
June 12 – 8:09 P.M._

"Well...how 'bout this one?" Rogue asked, holding up a black shirt decorated with skulls and death and all manner of scary things.

Remy quirked his brows as he studied it. "Too depressive," he finally settled on as his arms moved to pick up a tight red shirt. "How's dis?"

"Ah think you should try that one on, Swampie." Because the thought of that tight shirt, and his tight abs...Well... "And this one, too," she held out another black T-shirt, this one decorated with an image of a scary looking clown holding a bloody meat-cleaver in one hand.

"Girl, what is up wit' dese shirts you keep on pickin'?" he pondered out loud, grabbing the shirt out of her hand and dropping it back onto the display table.

"Well, Ah'm sorry," the volatile teen snapped back, nearly breaking the clothing rack she was holding on to. "If you didn't want mah input, you shouldn't o' invited me."

"S'not dat Ah don't want your input, Roguie, Ah just t'ink y' need to cut down on dis whole death and destruction t'ing you got goin' on. Dis here Cajun can guarantee you'd have more friends if you would just dress a li'l nicer."

"Whaddaya want me to wear? Sunshine yellow and neon green?"

"Well, mebbe not _neon_ green," the twenty-year-old grinned in reply, eyes flashing behind his dark sunglasses. "But yellow an' green _spandex_ Ah could so see you goin' for. An' mebbe a coat just like me, eh? Den we could match. S'fittin' f' best buds, _oui_?"

"Ah'm sorry, what evah gave you the impression that we were friends?" Rogue drawled back, grabbing the pile of stuff that they had collected from off of the floor and heading over to the check-out counter, Cajun in tow.

"Mebbe de fact dat you agreed to come help me shop for clothes?"

"Maybe Ah just wanted to make sure whatevah clothes you picked out made you look even stupider than normal."

"Sure. Dat's why you've been droolin' over me dis whole time." The cocky Cajun took this opportunity to slip his arm around the girl's waist. Rogue didn't even try to pull away this time.

"Ah think you're mistakin' me for every otheh dumb-witted girl in this mall."

"Oh, so you noticed 'em all eyein' me, den? And why we headed to check-out? Ah still gotta try dese t'ings on!" he protested.

Rogue ignored the first thing in favour of the last. "You'll learn, Swamp Rat, that we from the mansion have a 'buy now, try on later' thing we do. If it don't fit, return it."

"Well, Ah have more of a 'try on now, steal later' t'ing Ah like t' do. When y' steal somethin', y' can't rightly return it, now, can ya?"

"That's why we're payin' for this perfectly legitimately." The accompanying glare silenced Remy long enough for them to get to the check-out counter and pay for his things. Minutes later, they exited the store, laughing about the ridiculous clerk at the counter.

"And didja see the way she was lookin' at ya when you said that?" Rogue giggled. "Ah mean, seriously, Rems. Sex change? Where do you come up with this stuff?"

"It's a gift, _mon_ _chère_. So...where to now?" Gambit leaned against the railing, over-looking the two stories of mall below them.

"Hot Topic."

"_Non_."

"Why not?"

"Emo."

"And?"

"Ah ain't goin' in dat devil store," he shot back, pulling his shades down so he could glare at her.

"Oh, that's rich comin' from you, Mr. Red-eyes. And they don't only sell gothic clothin'," she growled back, crossing her arms.

"Ah don't care, Ah'm not goin' in dere. 'Sides, all deir clothes are ridiculously expensive. If we're stickin' to legit shoppin', den we're stickin' to Wal-Mart prices as well, got it?"

"Scrooge," she muttered, turning her back to him.

"So, where to next?"

"Fahne. Aeropostale." A shudder went up her spine as she said the evil word.

Gambit looked at her in abject horror. "Girl, don't you know a t'ing about _balance_? You go from one extreme to de ot'er! Ah ain't shoppin' in no store where Cyclops buys his clothes!" he exclaimed.

Rogue turned her head sideways to see him, a sly look in her eyes. "Why not?" she replied. "You seem to have no problem wearin' his clothes."

"An emergency!" he shot back. "Dis was an extreme emergency! Would y' have me run 'round naked instead?"

"Well..." a flirty smile crossed her face as she began. "Ah certainly wouldn't have a problem with that."

Remy was stunned. His whole body froze as he processed what she had just said. Was Rogue actually _flirting_? With _him_?

Rogue smirked. She had just left Remy LeBeau at a complete loss for words. Was she good? Yes, she was good.

"Well," she continued after giving him another moment to digest her flirtatious reply. "If we can't decide on a store to buy from, Ah think we might as well go home. You've got enough to last you at least a week or two. Ah mean, provided you like goin' commando, that is."

The Cajun nodded dumbly in reply, easily following as Rogue dragged him toward the elevator. "Y-yeah, sure, _chère_."

Five minutes later, the two emerged into the parking garage, easily bantering with each other about that same clerk in the store from before. As they approached the bike, though, Rogue began to frown.

"Swamp Rat," she began.

"_Oui_?"

"How the hell are we supposed to fit all'a these things onto that bike of yours?"

Gambit paused, not having thought this far ahead. His eyes slowly wandered around the parking garage, falling on the SUV, the pick-up truck, the Audi, the Honda, the...wait. Backtracking to the Audi, Gambit's eyes flared. Rogue frowned a bit as she noticed the contemplative look on his face and the fact that his eyes had begun to glow a little more from behind his shades. Following his gaze, her whole body froze when she realized what, exactly, he was thinking.

"No," she responded instantly.

"_Mais_ _chère_—," he started, only to be cut off when Rogue barrelled into him, knocking him flat on his back behind a nearby car. He winced as the jarring impact sent pain shooting through his already bruised ribs. When darts flew into the car's windshield not even seconds later, he glanced at the multi-colour-haired girl to find that her whole body had tensed up. She reached down and grabbed a chunk of shirt in her hand, yanking him up so that their faces were right together as she hissed out instructions.

"Swamp Rat, stay the hell down, got it? And whatever the flamin' hell you do, do not take off that freakin' collar. Ah really don't feel lahke dyin' today."

"What are you gon' do?" he snapped back.

"Ah'm gonna take care o' these losers," she growled back. "And you're gonna stay out of it the whole time because not only are ya injured, you also can't control yer highly destructive powehs. Not ta mention that _you're_ the one they're afteh. Got it?"

"And what de hell c'n y' do?" he replied darkly, suddenly worrying about his future girlfriend's safety (because, no matter what she said, he knew in his heart that they were destined to be together...or some nonsense like that).

"Ah can do a lot more than you can, that's fer sure," she finished, letting him fall back to the ground as she stood up. "Okay, boys!" the fearsome young woman called. "Come on out."

"Boys?" a smooth voice replied as three decidedly feminine figures slid out from the darkness. "Who's she calling boys?"

"Must be you, Vertigo," the green-haired one stated to the green-and-white haired one who had been talking previously. "You've got a decidedly mannish figure, after all."

"Me? Mannish?" Vertigo chortled. "No, I'm sorry, that would be Arclight here." This was accompanied by her slapping the purple-haired woman next to her on the back.

"Clearly she was talking to us," a much deeper voice resounded as about six more (male) mutants stepped into the light.

"Hello, girlie," Sabretooth greeted with a nasty grin.

Rogue wrinkled her nose in disgust as she looked over at him. "You," she snarled. "Ah thought Wolverine got rid of your ass already."

"That runt?" the giant brute of a man chuckled for a second as a crazy gleam came into his eye. "Like he could get rid of me."

"Look," the dark-haired man who seemed to be their leader stepped forward. "We're not here to hurt you if we don't have to. We just want the Cajun."

The power-absorber glanced down at the young man next to her, noting that his face had gone carefully blank, before jumping onto the car she was behind. Perfectly balancing herself with one foot on the hood and one on the roof, the pale girl balled her hands into fists as she replied.

"Ah'm sorry about that, then," she drawled, a smirk growing on her face. "But as much as Ah can't stand the stupid Swamp Rat, Ah've got this strict policy about handin' defenceless men ovah to crazed psychopaths. Besides," she added, her accent growing thicker as she shifted into a ready stance while still balancing steadily on the car. "Ah highly doubt you could do me much damage, anyhow." And then she sprung into action.

Gambit, actually following instructions for once, watched in astonishment as Rogue _single_-_handedly_ took on the eight Marauders. Since when did the girl have super-strength? And since when could she fly? The clincher came when Sabretooth's claws couldn't scratch her. The hulking brute was met with a fist to the face for his efforts, and sent flying backwards into one of the supporting columns.

"She _definitely_ couldn't do dat before," the Cajun muttered to himself, completely in awe watching the woman he loved fight his battles for him. Just the way she moved, the way she punched, the way she _flew_—it was all as fluid and graceful as whenever he fought. For the first time in, well, _ever_ the man would have been perfectly content with just sitting back and staying out of the fight. That is, of course, when he noticed the green-and-white-haired woman—Vertigo, he believed her name was—gearing up for an attack. "_Merde_!" he cursed as the memories of his own encounter with that woman's powers came to the forefront of his mind. Rogue was doing well enough on her own for right now, but not even her apparent invulnerability to could save her from that infernal dizziness once Vertigo geared up her powers. "Ah should'a just stayed at de stupid mansion," Remy growled to himself, shoving his hand into his pocket and digging for a weapon. He couldn't very well use his playing cards as he was on a strict no-powers health plan—healthy for everyone around him, that was. "Ah!" the thief exclaimed in triumph as he found what he had been searching for. Six throwing knives with blades no more than six inches he kept on him at all times just in the event that...well...that something like this were to happen. Pulling one out, Gambit took but a moment to aim before sending the first flying with deadly precision into the female Marauder's shoulder just above the collar bone.

Vertigo screamed bloody murder as the knife cut into her out of nowhere. The others were too busy holding out against the teenage girl to pay much attention to her cry, but they wouldn't mind if she took a little break to deal with their real cause of contention, now, would they? Her fingers twitched in anticipation as she imagined breaking his pretty little neck.

"Oh," she began, bearing down on the young man on the ground. "You're going to regret doing that." The multi-colour haired woman suddenly yanked the small dagger out of herself, holding the bloody, gleaming blade up in front of her.

"Ah highly doubt dat Ah will," the Cajun shot back, a cocky grin on his face as he slowly inched back.

"Oh, trust me," Vertigo smirked nastily, towering over his form from feet away. "You will."

"And just what makes you t'ink dat?"

"Nothing really," she replied lightly, twirling the blood-covered knife between her fingers. "Just that," she gave a small nod in his direction.

Remy frowned. "Just wha-ahh!" he cut off with a cry as a more-than-familiar clawed hand yanked him up by the hair.

"Well, well, well," a low voice growled, breath hot on his ear, as the hand twisted in his long hair and yanked his head up. "Lookie what we have here."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Rogue dodged Blockbuster's punch only to be blasted with a seismic wave from Arclight. Hitting the ground hard, she barely managed to roll out of the way to avoid being struck by Scalphunter.

"Crap," she muttered to herself as she took to the air once more to evade one of Harpoon's spears.

"Down you go, baby!" Arclight cackled as another set of sonic vibrations ripped through the air, knocking the flying girl out of the sky once more.

"Shit!" Rogue exclaimed as she again found herself grounded. She pushed herself back up, narrowly avoiding being impaled by a metal beam thrown by Malice. Arclight appeared in front of her, shooting off punches rapidly, Rogue barely managing to avoid them. And that's when she slipped up. The skunk-haired girl glanced back for a second to make sure that Remy was alright, only to see him at the mercy of Sabretooth. Her movements froze as she processed the scene, and the purple-haired woman used that opportunity to knock he younger woman down.

Rogue blinked idly as she found herself in a daze, only half aware as Blockbuster picked her up and a much smaller man approached. As her blurry vision began to clear, she idly noticed him speaking to her.

"—think we can't do anything? I'll show _you_ just how much _damage_ the Marauders can _do_."

...Crap.

**TBC...**

Adrian: Well. This is certainly interesting. Will Rogue wake up in time to kick some more ass? Will Gambit cunningly escape Sabretooth's clutches with_out_ the use of his powers? Will we find out what Remy said to the sales girl? Will I _ever_ write the next chapter?

You'll have to wait 'til next time to find out.

Oh, and just in case you're wondering, the Marauder line-up is as follows:  
Scalphunter, Sabretooth, Malice, Harpoon, Vertigo, Scrambler, Arclight, and Blockbuster. Their team may grow as I write the story.

**BUT! BECAUSE I'M NICE, I'LL GIVE YOU A PREVIEW OF THINGS TO COME!**

"_And look at that. Our works half done. It's almost like you were expecting us."_

"_You think you know mah power? Sugah, **your** power **is** mah power!"_

"_What the bloody hell is goin' on here?"_

"_Remy! Come on, Sugah, stay with us."_

"_Are you seein' what I think I'm seein'?"_

"_I'm going to kill that Cajun!"_

And more...

Well, until next time:

Farewell.

Don't forget to review! They've got this new big button that's lots of fun to push. You should try it. And typing a comment afterwards is equally as fun.

If you review, I'll give you something special. ^.^


	9. Death

Adrian: Well, howdy do! How are you? Has it been a long time since my last update? I hope not. Anyway, I won't bog you down with petty things right here like I usually do. It's time to get straight to the story! Action, thy name is...whatever.

And, yeah, I make Kitty a little...uh...rude in this chapter, but how would you feel if you were interrupted from talking to your boyfriend (or girlfriend) by someone rattling on about nothing who starts insulting you when you ask if it's important because you were on the other line? Yeah. I thought so.

Disclaimer: Does the fact that I need one not say anything to you at all?

**Out of the Frying Pan

* * *

**

**Chapter Eight: Death**

As Rogue's head cleared all the way, she suddenly realized the situation she was in. Blockbuster, whose strength was even greater than her own, held her tight against his chest as another one of them, one with unknown powers, advanced upon her, promising her a world of pain.

'_How do Ah get mahself into these situations?'_ she wondered blankly, idly struggling against her captor.

"Rogue!" she heard Remy yell, followed by a quickly stifled yelp.

'_Oh, raght,'_ she added mentally. _'That's how.'_

"Well, little girl," the Asian man in front of her continued, a sadistic smile on his face as he pulled a glove off of his hand. "Let's see how well you deal without those powers of yours."

"And you would be?" the white-banged girl asked idly, raising an eyebrow. "'Cause Ah don't think we were introduced."

"Scrambler," he replied wickedly.

"And Ah suppose you're plannin' on touchin' me with that hand o' yours." On the bright side: one bad guy out for the count. On the dark: his crazy-ass thoughts in her brain. Permanently.

"I'll mess your powers up so bad for you. Just be grateful I'm not in a...paralyzing mood today."

And then his hand was on her face. For about ten seconds there was nothing, just both figures freezing before both of them jerked bodily. Scrambler stumbled back and Rogue went lax in Blockbuster's arms for a moment before she began to laugh. The goth jerked suddenly in the giant's grip, breaking away from him as a condescending smile crossed her face.

"Is that all?" she asked mockingly before slamming a fist into him. His body flew back a good few feet before sliding to a stop.

"But...what? Y-you're powers!" Arclight exclaimed, backing away from the girl. Rogue smirked as she casually tugged a glove off.

"You think you know mah powers?" the white-banged girl grinned, laying her hand smack-dab onto Arclight's face. "Sugah, _your_ power _is_ mah power."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"So, Cajun," the feral mutant growled, wrenching the younger man's arms behind him to distract him from the business with Rogue. "Miss me?"

Deeming not to respond, Remy instead tested the grip Sabretooth had on his arms, only to have it strengthen at his efforts.

"He asked you a question, you little brat," Vertigo snarled, backhanding the powerless mutant. Remy's head snapped to the side and his shades went flying from his face.

Glancing back at the man (or, rather, monster) holding him in place, Gambit sneered, "Miss you? _Oui_, Ah missed you. Missed beatin' de hell outta you last night."

Sabretooth roared. Remy suddenly found his body flying through the air, and the abrupt collision with the ground forced the air out of his lungs as it jerked his already wounded ribs for the second time in less than an hour.

"You little bitch!" the giant blonde bellowed, slamming his foot into the recovering man's stomach. Any wind Remy had momentarily regained was instantly lost as the brute began kicking at him repeatedly. As he struggled to move away from his enraged attacker, the room began to tilt. A groan escaped his lips as the young mutant attempted to curl up on himself.

"Heh," Vertigo laughed, increasing the strength of her abilities until Remy felt he would vomit, "Not so tough without your powers, now, are you?"

Everything was spinning, and tilting, and moving, something Gambit didn't quite understand as he was on the ground. Vertigo's words rang in his head, though, prompting the realization that he could, in fact, do something about this...but then Rogue's words came back to mind. He realized he had a choice to make. He could lay here and get beat to death, or kidnapped, or whatever it was they wanted with him...or he could use his powers and likely kill all of them, half the mall included.

That is, of course, when it all stopped.

"Oi!" A very familiar voice spoke with a very familiar Australian accent. "What the bloody hell is goin' on here?"

Remy cracked an eye open to see two familiar figures standing in the light. And then the world tilted again as he was suddenly yanked up (yet again, by the hair – did the feral not know any other way to drag someone around?!) once more and a hand gripped his throat. As his blurred vision began to clear, he made out Rogue on the ground, with Arclight and Malice standing over her, and...hadn't the girl been about to absorb Arclight? _Nothing_ about this situation was adding up.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Pyro took in the scene about him, growing more and more pissed off as he did so.

"Okay, kitty," he began, pulling his trusty Zippo out of his jeans' pocket. "Put the nice man down."

"Wouldn't you know," Sabretooth rumbled, "you three still always travel in a pack. Where's the third stooge?"

"Who needs a third stooge when I've got a Sheila as great as this one? Right, sweetie?"

"Call me sweetie again and I'll rip your balls off," Wanda ever-so-nicely growled, stomping forward a few steps to face the Marauders. "All of you are pissing me off. You: put the stupid Cajun down. You: back off of my friend. The rest of you: get the hell away before I kill you all."

Scalphunter laughed from where he was sitting on top of a car, observing. "Kill us all?" he questioned. "The little girl's got attitude." The rest of the Marauders laughed at this (sans Sabretooth and Malice, who just didn't).

"_Little_ girl? Little _girl_?! _Little_ _girl_!!!!" The Scarlet Witch roared, her hands glowing blue.

"Ooh, boy," Rogue chuckled from where she was. "That boy's got no idea what he's just done."

"I'll just, uh...I'll go help Remy, then!" St. John called after his psychopathic girlfriend set on annihilating the man who called her little. Turning back to face Sabretooth, he opened the flame on his lighter.

"I'll take care of him," Vertigo commented, an amused look on her face. "You deal with the Cajun."

"With pleasure," the clawed-man replied gleefully.

"So," John began, always one to start a fight with a friendly conversation (when he wasn't cackling maniacally, that was). "What would your powers happen to be? Mine are fire, see?" Here he held up his lighter.

"How about I show you?" the woman replied, holding up one hand.

"I'd rather not, actually," Pyro said mournfully. "Nothing against you personally, sheila, but I like meself just the way I am. Can't have someone else's powers messin' with that, can I? 'Sides," he added. "Wanda'd kill me if I went and got myself beat. Again." And here the lighter's flame turned into a giant fiery ball that the green-and-white haired girl barely managed to avoid.

"You—you singed me!" she shrieked, holding up the ends of her multi-coloured hair.

"It's what I do," Pyro grinned. "Though I was actually going for more burned or roasted than singed, as the case may be. Oh, well. Ready for round two?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Remy groaned at Pyro's corny lines. That idiot really _hadn't_ changed at all.

"Well, Cajun," Sabretooth's growl cut Gambit from his train of thought. "Time to go."

"Time t' go?" the thief replied, fully aware of the tightening grip about his neck. "Ah think not." And that's when he stabbed the giant cat in the leg with one of those handy little throwing knives he kept on his person at all times. Sabretooth howled, his grip loosening enough to allow the agile Cajun to slip into a roll. The brunette came up neatly, pulling out his staff as he did so. "How 'bout we even dis up some?"

"You're gonna regret that," the brute replied lowly, pulling the weapon out of his leg.

"Make me," Remy taunted, spinning his bo in front of him. "Oh, but before Ah forget," he added, as his hand reached up, snapping the negator off and pocketing it. "_Now_, let's go."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Wanda and Rogue were back to back, five Marauders circling them (as Scrambler was still out for the count, courtesy of Rogue).

"So, Wanda," the green goth began conversationally, "What brings you out to the mall today?"

"Just the usual," the scarlet goth returned. "I ran out of torture devices to use on the Brotherhood."

"Sounds pleasant," Rogue commented, eyeing Malice in front of her. "Mind showin' me some tahme? Ah need a few things to use on the Swamp Rat over there."

"My _pleasure_," the black-and-red haired girl snarled, her hands glowing as her powers took hold of the unlucky mutant in front of her—Blockbuster. The usually impervious man didn't even stand a chance against the influx of power as the Scarlet Witch turned his muscles so weak that he couldn't even stand anymore.

Rogue, meanwhile, focussed her attentions on Arclight, seeing as the other insanely strong woman had gotten on the young lady's really, _really_ bad side. That stupid Scrambler had made her unable to absorb powers for who knows how long, but not fast enough for Rogue to prevent herself from sucking him dry.

"Wanna try hittin' me again?" the Southern belle taunted, feeling Wanda's powers tingling through her body, strengthening her and returning her powers to their proper self. "Or how 'bout we try this again?" And once more, Rogue's hand came in contact with the purple-haired woman's skin, only this time with radically different results. "That's more lahke it," the green-eyed teen finished, turning to face her next enemy, Harpoon. "Well, this'll be easy," she commented, rolling her eyes before springing into action.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Pyro cackled as his flame constructs chased the evil woman around. Vertigo huffed, and rolled out of the way of a flaming bird swooping in at her head.

"_This_ is enough of _this_," she growled to herself, raising her hand in the pyromaniac's direction so as to distort his sense of balance. And she would've succeeded, too, had her body not been enveloped in a bright blue light and sent flying across the garage.

"Only _I_ can hurt John!" Wanda hollered before turning back to her showdown with Scalphunter (or, rather, her fun time. She was just toying with him, as it was).

"Thanks, Sheila!" her beloved boyfriend returned graciously. "I do so love a strong woman!"

"Amen t' dat!" Gambit cheered, ducking as Sabretooth swiped at him, only to whip his staff around, catching the giant mutant behind the knees and sending him down for the count. "Wow," he commented to himself when Sabretooth didn't move again. "Dat was surprisingly easy."

"Don't get too cocky, Cajun," Rogue snapped, pummelling the crap out of her purple-haired opponent. "And why the hell did you take that damn collar off?"

"Dat t'ing itches!" he protested, turning to look where his future wife was fighting.

"And you can't control your powers! Your highly dangerous and _explosive_ powers, might Ah add!"

"Dey just fahne right now!" Gambit snapped back, completely unaware of the various small objects that had started to glow in the vicinity.

"Get distracted, Cajun?" a low voice from behind asked, a dark chuckle underlying every word. Remy frowned, and spun out of the way, but not fast enough to keep Sabretooth's claws from ripping deeply into his side. "Fooled ya," he hissed into the young man's ear before his body hit the ground hard, the area beneath him beginning to glow.

"Crap!" Scalphunter exclaimed as he noticed this. "Fall back!" The Marauders, sans Sabretooth, grabbed Vertigo and Scrambler before seemingly vanishing into nowhere. The feral mutant stood there for a moment, a crazed grin on his face, as he gave his parting words before disappearing in the same manner the others had.

"Have fun."

"Oh bloody freakin' hell!" Pyro exclaimed, kneeling next to his out of control, badly bleeding friend. "Remy!"

"Can't...control it," the injured Cajun rasped out, a hand clutching his bleeding side.

"Wanda?" Rogue asked, her voice slightly panicked, joining Pyro on the ground.

"I've already got it," the other girl replied as a faint blue glow combined itself with the pink one radiating from the bleeding man on the floor. "It's not that hard to make him control it; the probability for that happening is already astounding."

"That's great and all, _sheila_, but he's bloody _dyin'_! Fix _that_!" John freaked, his hands bloody as they tried to stop the flow from where almost half of his friend's side had been ripped out.

"I can't just do that!" Wanda growled back. "It's a matter of probabilities and—"

"Both of y'all, just shut up!" Rogue snapped, pulling the dying thief's head into her lap. "C'mon, Sugah," she spoke softly. "Will one o' you call the mansion?"

"Rogue..." Remy moaned slightly, breaking up their train of thought as the three of them focussed back on him. "...Hurts..."

"Ah know, Sugah. Ah know. Just stay with us, we're gettin' help." A glare sent in John's direction had him scrambling to pull out his cell. Panic clawed at Rogue as she held Gambit's head in her lap. He couldn't just...die! That went against all the laws of everything, ever! They had just met up again for the first time in two years. She hadn't even gotten a proper chance to yell at him yet!

"Remy!" she cried as his head lolled to the side, mostly unconscious. "Come on, Sugah, stay with us. You can't die; I haven't gotten a chance to properly yell at you yet." No response.

John nearly freaked out as his phone almost slid from his blood-soaked hands. "Crap! Fuck! Shit! Bloody hell!" he yelled at it as he dialled the numbers and placed it at his ear. When two rings passed, and no one answered, he found himself cursing it once more, his eyes never leaving Remy's gaping wound. "Come on you bloody conches, answer the damn phone already!"

"_Uh...hello?"_ Came the reply from the other end of the line.

"Great!" he shouted, nearly dropping the phone again. "Um, listen, right? The sheila and I were at the mall, and it was real fun, y'know? And then—," Pyro was rudely cut off from the other end.

"_Is this, like, important? 'Cause I was, like, talking to my boyfriend on the other line."_

Oh. _That's_ who it was. "Look, you damn whacker, I don't care how much metal-man likes you, stop being such a fucking dipstick! This is an emergency!"

"_Because you and the Scarlet Bitch going to the mall is such an emergency how, exactly?"_ Shadowcat shot back from the other line.

"Look, you little galah, this isn't about me, this is about—what the bloody fucking hell is that?" St. John cut himself off, the phone dropping out of blood slicked hands. "Are you seein' what I think I'm seein'?" he asked the two girls.

"Ah don't...how...Wanda?" The white and brown headed girl wavered, not sure how to react.

A shrug was Rogue's response. "I'm only keeping his powers under control," was the unusually calm reply.

"How is that happening?" Rogue whispered in shock.

"I...I don't know, but...the bastard's healin' himself back up!"

_**X-Mansion**__  
Bayville, New York:  
June 12 – 8:37 P.M._

Wolverine walked down the halls of the mansion, contemplating what the Professor had just told him.

"Huh," he muttered to himself as he headed for the garage. "I guess I should give him a chance," the feral sighed reluctantly. As he entered the garage, though, Logan's mind slowly began to change. "I smell cayenne and tobacco," he growled lowly, following the fleeting scent to its end...at the empty spot where his baby, his hard-earned Harley, should have been.

"I'm gonna kill that Cajun!"

**TBC...**

Adrian: And the plot thickens...in good time, too! I hope you all enjoyed (it would actually have been up sooner, but, well...I got sick. Also, it's Inauguration Day, so it's a day to celebrate (Go Obama! ^.^ ).). And this is my longest chapter yet! ...I think.

REVIEW!!!! REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!!!!! (Have I said it enough yet?)


	10. Power

Adrian: Well, sorry for the long wait, everyone. I've been busy, and getting into other fandoms, and, well...stuff happens. But, it's always good to know, I have not forgotten this story! It will prevail! ...Um, yeah. So. Here's the next chapter:

Disclaimer: I am not currently in the possession of any titles relating to X-Men, X-Men: Evolution, the Avengers, Marvel in general, etc. (except for Iron man, because that movie is the shiznat. Yes, you read that right. The shiznat.)

Oh, BTW, if Gambit DOES have an actual birthday, I don't know it. So I made one up that would fit with the plot of my story. Let's just go with it. Also, this chapter may be kind of boring to you. If it is, I'm sorry, but it's important setup for things to come.

**OUR THEME SONGS**: _**I'm Like a Lawyer with the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You)**_ by **Fall-Out Boy**

**Out of the Frying Pan

* * *

**

**Chapter Nine: Power**

_**X-Mansion**__**  
Bayville, New York:  
June 13 – 8:29 A.M.**_

"But—Hank!" Rogue exclaimed, her face pale as she reiterated the events of the night before. "You don't undehstand! His side—gone! Lahke, seriously ripped out o' him! To the point where that friggin' brute had clumps of bloody flesh clingin' to his fingers!"

Beast sighed, turning to face the distraught girl. "Rogue, dear girl, are you sure that's what you actually saw? Because for that to be true, Mr. LeBeau would have to have healing abilities on par with Logan for there to be not even a faint scar left."

The white-banged girl growled low in her throat. This was beyond frustrating. The Cajun had had his _side_ cleaved out, healed himself back from it, and no one believed her! Not even the stupid Swamp Rat himself! Well, no one except Wanda and John, but the three of them had managed to convince an already stressed-out Remy (who couldn't remember half the events of the night), and the bastard had freaked out even more. So what if his stupid powers were going out of control. At least he could still touch people. And he could heal himself up, now, too.

"Look, mate, the sheila's right," Pyro butted in to defend their point. "'E just healed all up, just like that."

The giant blue man looked at the two of them sitting on the spinning chairs in front of the control panel to the danger room before leaping over to the window to watch the slightly annoyed Cajun mutant pace back and forth in the quaint hospital room setting that had been programmed in due to the Med Lab being out of commission (and had, luckily enough, also saved Rogue from brutal death at the hands of Wolverine's early-morning D.R. sessions. She was going to have to remember to thank Remy for that. It looked like he'd saved her after all).

"Not to say that you're lying, but—"

"Ah can show ya, if you'd lahke," the green-eyed girl cut in.

Hank shot her a blank look, not following what she was saying.

"Look," she continued, "You know how the Professeh's been workin' with me on controllin' mah powers? And, Ah mean, while Ah can't actually _touch_ anyone yet, Ah've been gettin' pretty decent at recallin' powers that are still runnin' through mah psyche, and Ah've still got Jean in mah head, so if you're really havin' that much trouble believin' me, Ah could always just show ya."

The doctor sighed in acquiescence. "Very well, go ahead."

The female mutant's whole body stilled for a moment as her eyes seemed to roll into the back of her head, and then—images. Pictures, scenes, flashing through Beast's head so fast that he stumbled back and collided with the door. He saw the mall—_Remy and Rogue happily shopping_—the parking garage—_until they realized they had ineffective means of transportation_—the attack—_Scrambler approaching with that malicious look on his face_—the help—_Wanda looking pissed off (as usual), and John with that slightly crazed look on his face (also as usual)_—and then—_"The bastard's healin' himself back up!"_.

Rogue groaned as she came out of it, putting a hand to clutch at her head.

"You alright there, sheila?" John asked quietly, resting a hand gently on her arm.

"Yeah," she groused, squeezing her eyes shut. "Just gimme a minute. Ah ain't used ta doin' that yet."

"Oh, my stars and garters!" Henry exclaimed from his position against the door. His wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression was enough to make the red-headed Aussie wish he had his camera on him. "This—this is amazing! Phenomenal! Completely and totally unexpected, but a miraculous find! Now I understand what the Professor's been on about. His potential...the possibilities...amazing!"

"You followin' this?" Rogue turned to Pyro, raising an eyebrow.

"'E lost me at phenomenal."

"Look, Hank," Rogue spoke up, interrupting the scientist's inane ramblings. "Just tell us what the hell's goin' on with the Swamp Rat, alraght?"

"You mean you don't know?" the giant beast-man looked utterly flabbergasted.

"Know whot?" the younger male snapped. This was starting to get bloody annoying, and if John wasn't informed of what was going on with his best friend in the next three seconds, something was going to go up in flames.

"Our young friend down there," Hank began, leaping over to the observatory window, "is, in fact, an Omega-class mutant."

"A what now?" Rogue choked out. Omega-class mutants were just myths, weren't they?

"An Omega-class mutant. They're a very rare spin-off of Alpha and make up approximately one percent of the entire mutant popu—"

"Ah know what an Omega-class mutant is, Hank," The white-banged girl butted in. "What Ah wanna know is why the hell you think Remy's one, or, hell, why the hell have we been told that Omegas are all myths?!"

"Oh, dear girl, no one ever taught you that omegas are myths. They are, in fact, anything but. Of course, being so rare, it's easy to see how they could be mistaken as such, but, and dear Remy is proof, they are as real as you or me. As for how we came to the conclusion that Gambit is an omega, well, I've mostly doubted it myself despite Charles's firm stance on the matter, but this is most definite proof. He's displaying the key mutational aspects that all Omega class mutants currently recorded have undergone."

"You mean the ability to heal 'emselves?" The Aussie butt in, clearly confused.

"Nonsense!" Hank continued. "No Omega that I've ever seen or heard of has ever displayed healing abilities if they were not already part of their powers."

"Then what the hell are ya tryin' ta say, Hank?" Rogue snapped, beginning to get pissed off.

"If you would let me finish, perhaps it would all be explained."

"Fahne. Continue, please," came the dry response.

"As I was saying," the giant blue man continued, "Most mutants will generally undergo one, maybe two entire mutations over their lifetime, the first when they hit puberty and their powers emerge, and, if they experience a secondary one, it will usually occur within two years of the first."

"You mean lahke Bobby's ice-powers and then his ice-form emerging?"

"Ah, no, not exactly, dear girl. It's more like your abilitiy to permanently absorb a person's powers into your psyche emerging. It's slightly different than Bobby."

"Why would that be?" the fire mutant again cut in. "Why is her ability a secondary mutation, and ice-boy's not?"

"Because, unbeknownst to most, the ice-form was Bobby's first manifestation of his power. But, as I was saying, generally the secondary mutation will usually occur within the first year or two after the emergence of powers, unless an outside force like Sage interferes and causes them to mutate further. In Omegas, however, their powers emerge like usual at puberty, or, depending on the person's situation, maybe earlier—" Rogue and Pyro shot each other a look, "—and they will progress as normal, until about the time that they begin to reach adulthood. Mr. Lebeau is about to turn twenty, am I correct?"

"Uh, yeah, mate, his birthday is in about three weeks...I think."

"What happens then?" the young woman questioned.

"That's when their powers begin to evolve farther. Almost like a secondary mutation but spread out over a much larger period of time and evolved to a point much, much stronger than before. Our young friend beneath us is the next true stage of human evolution. Or at least that's what some scientists believe. Personally, I believe that Omega-class mutants have a harder time than the rest of us can possibly understand."

"Why is that?" Pyro asked.

"You know the old saying 'absolute power corrupts absolutely'? Any mutant with that amount of power would need a large amount of self control in order to not destroy themselves, and who knows how many people along with them."

Silence reigned for a few moments as Rogue and St. John watched the now-seated Cajun through the Observation Window.

"So, uh...why can he heal himself, then? That was never part of his powers," the redheaded man spoke up, continuing his earlier line of questions.

"Gambit's powers were always the ability to have some measure of manipulation with Kinetic energy, although he could only make the molecules accelerate. Now, however, I believe that his powers have transcended what we could have ever hoped for, making his abilities nearly unstoppable, faced with another Omega or not."

"Meaning...?"

"Total Kinetic Control. Energy is no longer something for him to manipulate, it's something for him to control. Kinetic Energy, mainly, although saying that I believe Potential energy can combine with that when listing his abilities. His powers are so much more than just destructive now, as was demonstrated during the short amount of time that Ms. Maximoff lent him her abilities and allowed temporary control. What he did was to, how do I put this...well, he supercharged the cells in his body, making them work faster, move faster, _heal_ faster. It's not a healing ability, per se, but it has the same effect as one. Should he gain control over his powers, he would be able to maintain that level of ability not only on his own body, but on others' as well. It's truly amazing, the potential that he has."

"So, what would happen, say, if he neveh gained control and his powehs went crazy one day?" The white-banged girl pondered.

"All I can say, and I'd say this about any Omega-class mutant in that situation, is that it probably wouldn't be a pleasant ending for the rest of earth's population."

"Well, gee, that's a nahce thought."

_**Same Location**__**  
Danger Room  
8:58 A.M.**_

Twice. Twice in less than twenty-four hours, Remy had run-ins with the Marauders. Twice they had gotten their asses kicked, but twice he had seriously lost control of his powers. Twice they had somehow been able to track him, but twice he had evaded them...and twice, it seemed, Rogue had saved him (or that's the way he decided to think of things, seeing as he couldn't remember a good chunk of what happened in the parking garage).

The Marauders were seriously starting to piss Gambit off.

The young man pushed himself up off of the stark white sheets of the fake bed he was laying on, and walked over to the fake little window where he could feel the fake little sunshine on his not-so-fake, not-so-little face as he watched the fake little kids run around out there on the fake little lawn and swim in the fake little pool.

The Danger Room was _also_ starting to piss Gambit off.

Why ever the hell whoever programmed this had thought that the warm yellow on the walls was _comforting_ he had no idea, but that person had _clearly_ not consulted Rogue on the matter. Remy was willing to put his money on that Kitty-girl. That was beside the point, though. The point of the matter was that he was stuck here in this stupid little room for observation when it was clear to him, as well as anyone looking at him, that he was perfectly fine...aside from the fact that his abilities were mutating out of control. And sitting here in this supposedly "peaceful" place was actually doing more to keep him agitated than to relax him. What he needed right now was a good cigarette...or two, or three, or however many it took to calm his nerves from the fact that his side had apparently been cleaved from his body last night. Not that the red-eyed Cajun could remember it, or anything, but Rogue and John had tried their damndest to convince him of that fact (even though he hadn't believed a word from them until Wanda had spoken up. When the Scarlet Witch spoke, you listened). But therein lay the problem.

Remy LeBeau could not remember any of it. He remembered shopping, mainly, and then bits and flashes of the parking garage and the Marauders, along with Pyro and Wanda thrown somewhere into the mix, but nothing really made sense. Nothing connected. And what he had learned from his friends, well...quite frankly, it scared him. And Remy Etienne LeBeau was not easily scared.

This whole...powers thing was seriously, _seriously_ long past _starting_ to piss him off.

Gambit was most definitely going to have to steal some of Wolverine's secret stash of beer when Beast decided to let him out of here. That's if he didn't die of blood loss from the amount the "good doctor" _insisted_ upon taking for "research purposes". This whole thing, quite frankly, sucked. A bunch. And, on second thought, Remy might not even wait for Beast to decide to let him out. The Omega made up his mind that first chance he got, he was busting out of here and sneaking into Rogue's room.

One could only hope that the chance would be soon.

_**Undisclosed Time and Place**_

"Idiot!" Scalphunter barked, whirling on Sabretooth. The Native American man paced back and forth the small, low-grade motel room in front of the bored and annoyed feral. "Are you insane?! Do you want to get us all killed? What the freaking hell were you thinking! If he died—I don't even want to _think_ of what Sinister would do if he were to die, so you better be damn grateful that he survived! "

Sabretooth laughed—a deep growling sound bubbling from his throat that rubbed the other mutant entirely the wrong way—and bore his fangs in a broad, sadistic grin. "You think I care about that shit-faced freak of a scientist? Only reason I'm here is 'cause this is where the money was. Unlike the rest of you people, I didn't sign my soul away to him. I'm free to come and go as I please, and if I feel like gutting the damn Cajun, I'll gut the damn Cajun."

The black-haired man seethed inside. This..._beast_ was going to completely ruin everything. Scalphunter still, for the life of him, could not understand why Sinister had insisted (or forced, rather) that Sabretooth be on the team that nabbed the creepy man's new latest obsession. Honestly, though, at the moment, the team leader could care less. Sabretooth was untrustworthy, unpredictable, and uncontrollable, three factors that combined together to make a very dangerous and unstable maniac, leaving Scalphunter with no other choice than to let the giant feral off with a warning.

"Watch it next time," he snapped, moving over to the door to let the rest of the team, who were waiting outside, in.

"So," Vertigo announced, plopping herself down on the bed as the rest of the team filed in. "We didn't get the brat—no thanks to _you_," a sharp glare was directed at Sabretooth, who grinned in response and began to lick what remained of the dried blood off his fingers. "What are we going to do now?" she continued.

"We wait," Scalphunter announced, eliciting groans from the rest of his team.

"Wait?" Malice snapped, tossing her green hair as she plopped on the chair lined up against the wall next to the TV. "Are you crazy."

"No, that'd be the big cat over there," Arclight scoffed, leaning against the now-closed door. "Besides, it makes sense. We wait a couple weeks, the idiot, being an idiot, drops his guard, and then we nab him. Easy. Simple. An infinitely less chance of something going wrong."

"Less of a chance, that is," the green-and-white haired woman sitting on the bed spoke up, "if he doesn't manage to gain some measure of control over himself in those couple of weeks. We saw what he could do with_out_ control; I'd sure as _fuck_ hate to see what he could do _with_ it."

"That brat?" Sabretooth chuckled, "All Gambit cares about is gambling, girls, and a great heist. I highly doubt he's going to get a handle on his powers in three or so weeks. He's got no self-discipline."

"Wow, the brute speaks intelligently," Malice sneered.

"Yes," Scrambler drawled from where he had plopped himself on the floor at the foot of the bed, straight across from the TV. "He's got no self-discipline, yet somehow managed to become one of the best thieves the underworld has ever seen. Makes _perfect_ sense."

Said brute growled, shifting slightly. "You haven't worked with the Cajun before. I know things about him none of you losers would ever know, and I know how he works. So I got a lil' blood crazy today. It happens. But if you bastards wanna nab the Cajun, yer gonna listen to what I have to say, and yer gonna listen good."

And as Sabretooth began to outline his fairly decent plan, albeit one in need of a lot of fine-tuning, Scalphunter thought to himself that maybe the mongrel would be proving his worth, and if _this_ was why the not-so-delicate mutant had been assigned to this overly-delicate task. This certainly seemed like the best idea that any one of them had had yet. And you know what they say.

Third time's the charm.

**TBC...**

Adrian: Whew! I hit seven pages! Yes! The chapters are getting longer! Sorry for the long, slightly boring wait. This chapter was tough. But! I've updated! Finally! And I've already started the next chapter, so I'll be seeing you soon! Buh-bye!

Review!


	11. Flame

Adrian: Hello, everyone! I'd just like to take this moment to say that the funny thing about this particular chapter is that I started writing it before I'm done with the previous chapter. However, it turns out I got super-SUPER bad writer's block where I couldn't write ANYTHING, and not just write, but I couldn't bring myself to draw anything, either. And then I was just super busy with life. But, in honour of me finally reading the X-Men: Legacy issue where Rogue got control of her powers, I'll be updating a lot more from now on (hopefully). This is partially inspired by Phoenix: Warsong.

And because this is an interlude, it may not be quite as long as I would've hoped. Although, I have to say, I have about four interludes planned for this story altogether: "Flame", "Witch", "Ice", and "Storm". If this story lasts longer than I hope, there might be a couple more, but for now, that's the plan.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not even my computer. –sniffle—

**LISTENING TO**: **Hot Stuff vs. World, Hold On **by **Craig David Feat. Bob Sinclair; Allequa (Remix) **by **Shurwayne Winchester Feat. Collie Budz; Get Out Alive **by** Three Days Grace**

**Out of the Frying Pan **

**Interlude: Flame**

_Running. She was running. She didn't know how long she'd been running, but it felt like it had been years. Years spent just running as fast as she could down this dark, seemingly never ending corridor. The walls of the hallway had long ago started to crack, and the shadows slithered continuously behind her. She kept running. From what, she didn't know, but there was something there. Something in the shadows. Something dark. _

_It was following her._

_And it was getting closer with every step she took to get away. There was no escaping it. The more she ran, the closer it got, and there was no end to the hall in sight. The young girl whimpered._

'_**Jean**__.' _

_The soft voice whispered to her, wrapping itself around her, seeping into her pores. It spurred her on, and her speed increased as she raced away from the creeping shadows that were waiting to devour her. _

'_**Jean**__,' it murmured to her again, louder this time, but with a warmth that beckoned to the child, offering _protection_ and _safety_ from the rapidly gaining darkness. _

'_**Jean**__,' came a third time: with a beckoning now. An urge to run to this voice for shelter. To join with it._

"_Where are you?!" the panicked girl cried as her sprint increased down the hall. _

_And then—there. Among walls cracked and crumbling in the far distance stood a door. Chancing a glance back over her shoulder the young child panicked when she saw that the shadows were lapping at her heels. She pumped her legs faster, her heart pounding in her chest. She was almost there...almost—Jean shrieked when the shadows wrapped around her ankles, tripping her, dragging her down mere feet from the door to her freedom. _

"_NO!" she screamed, kicking out at the intangible things holding her hostage while with her last ounce of strength she jumped for the door, fingers wrapping around the handle, and jerked it open with all her strength. There was a moment when everything around her paused, frozen as if in time, and an audible, pleased humming seemed to smother the young girl, striking Jean with a terror never before felt. _

'_**Join me**__,' it commanded._

_And then her entire world went up in flames._

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

"I'm sorry, Dr. and Mrs. Grey, but at this point our only solution is for Jean to come and live at the mansion. I know that this isn't what you want, and I admire that, but that is what will be best for your daughter. Jean is a very special girl, and I've done all I can to help her here, but her nightmares are growing worse, and she was levitating this entire neighbourhood. If she continues without the proper help, her developing powers will...will kill her, I'm afraid," the wheelchair-bound professor spoke to the anxious parents. The three of them sat in the living room, the Professor seated across from the parents clutching each other on the main couch.

"So...there's really nothing more you can do here?" Mrs. Grey asked quietly. When Charles Xavier had first approached her about her daughters developing abilities one year ago, she had been angry. Sarah Grey had thought that the man was a nutjob, even when he'd shown her what he himself could do. And then Jean had begun to levitate things with her mind, and she'd shared with her husband, John, the card the distinguished Professor had left her. The man had suggested that the then ten-year-old girl come stay at the school he was opening in Bayville, New York, but the loving parents had absolutely refused the possibility of sending their young daughter off to some strange boarding school. Now, it seemed, they had no further choice.

"I'm sorry to say," Charles responded, "but, no, there's nothing else I can do from here. I would really prefer to leave Jean here, with her family, if I could as there are so few mutants with loving families like yours in the world, but she will be better served if she came to the Institute. I can guarantee that she will be well taken care of, and I currently have two other students who I'm sure she'll get along with splendidly. You met Ororo already, and we have another boy around Jean's age, Scott Summers. And at the school, I will have more time to personally help your daughter control her mutation. I give you my word."

The two worried parents looked at each other, silently communicating their worries and anxieties. They knew in their hearts that this was best for her, but their love didn't want them to let go. Not when she was still so young. The phone ringing broke the silence.

"Pardon me," Sarah excused herself, "Let me get that." With a quick sweep of her skirt, she was gone into the kitchen.

"I...I don't feel comfortable letting her go just yet. Maybe in another year or two, when she's a little older, but she's only getting ready to turn twelve, and we don't feel that she should be separated from her family at this stage," John finally responded, running a hand through his luscious red hair.

Charles nodded. "I completely understand your worry, and normally I would agree with you, but Jean is a very special case, even among mutants. It's imperative that she learns to control her powers before they begin to control—is everything alright, Sarah?"

The blonde woman had returned to the room, completely ashen-faced. "That was the school," she whispered hoarsely. "Something's happening with Jean."

'_Ororo!_' the Professor called out with his mind. The teenage African punk goddess walked into the room, head held high, hands shoved into the pockets of her tight pants and headphones to her walkman hanging around her neck. Even in the midst of teenage rebellion the proud girl didn't slouch.

"Yes, Professor?" she asked politely, strong accent overpowering her words.

"We need to get to the school. There's been an emergency." His tone left no room to misinterpret that time was completely of the essence.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

_Fire was everywhere. On her, in her, around her. It was inescapable. It clutched her and burned her and saved her and hurt her and protected her and ripped her apart until she didn't know where she ended and the flames began. She was the fire, and the burning inferno surrounding her, inside of her, tearing out of her, everywhere around her, was she. Her body was ablaze in this unstoppable firestorm, and her mind was slowly being consumed by the flames. Crying out, the young girl curled in on herself—or what she thought was herself. _

'_**Jean**__.' And the voice was back, there, not around her, but IN her, clawing at her mind, cleaving it apart as undeniable, uncontrollable __**power**__ poured in. _

"_Leave me alone!" the child shrieked, unsure whether she spoke the words aloud or in her mind. She wasn't sure of anything anymore, not even who she was or what was going on. All she knew was that terrible, horrible, all-consuming burn of the fire slowly eating away at her._

_And then, for just a second, the blaze seemed to extinguish as it came upon something it couldn't destroy. Something...stopping it. Blocking it. The girl breathed a small sigh of relief as the horrible, all-consumingness of the inferno stopped for a moment..._

_...And then it reared up, even stronger than before, intent on destroying everything in its way with such an unyielding fury that she didn't even have time to scream before something indescribable happened to her mind._

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Jean's eyes snapped open, her breath coming hard as she clutched at the pillow her head rested on. Sitting up slowly, the young woman rested her sweat drenched face in her hands, attempting to gain her calm. She _did not need this now_. There was enough going on as it was without these horrible nightmares and visions returning. There was college, and mutant laws that were constantly being discussed in the Senate. There was Gambit and all the issues the X-Men currently had to deal with with his out of control, extremely destructive abilities. There was—

A sharp knock on the door interrupted Jean's train of thought. Reaching out gently with her mind, the twenty-year-old determined that it was only Scott.

'_Come in,_' she called mentally, noting the turning handle of her room door.

"Hey," he whispered softly, coming to sit on the bed next to her. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Jean replied, leaning softly on her fiancé's shoulder. She realized that the psychic link the two of them shared had probably alerted him to her distress. "It's just...these nightmares I used to have when I was a kid are coming back. I thought they were gone ever since the Professor did whatever he did the day I came to live at the mansion. You know, the day my powers first went spiralling out of control."

"Also the day we first met," Scott pointed out, smiling into Jean's soft red hair. She hummed softly in return, a slight smile on her face before she pulled away from her boyfriend.

"It's just that—Scott. I have this feeling like something bad is going to happen—and by bad, I mean really bad, phenomenally bad, cosmically bad, worse than Apocalypse bad—and that it somehow involves me," she half whispered. A strange look was on the telepath's face. It was a cross between terror and horror at whatever feeling she was experiencing. "I just—I just want my nightmares to go away!" the woman hicced, turning her head back into her fiancé's shoulder, this time with tears in her eyes.

"It's okay, Jean. Just talk to the Professor in the morning, he'll help you with whatever's wrong."

Wrapping his arms around his soon-to-be wife as she smiled and quietly sobbed, the visor-bound man determined that absolutely nothing was going to harm his Jean.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

'_**It is time**__,' the overpowering voice announced, its presence booming everywhere, in every pore of her body, and throughout everything that made her who she was. '__**We will be one**__,'__it demanded. '__**We ARE one!**__' it screamed. She couldn't fight anymore. That all-consuming fire had decimated everything in its path, everything that separated the girl from the flame. There was nothing protecting her anymore. And there was no strength left to resist. Jean disappeared into the overwhelming inferno._

_And Phoenix emerged._

**TBC...**

Adrian: Wow, it's been insanely long since I last updated. But, alas! A new chapter! A short, interluded one at that, but ah, well. I tried. This is overcoming writer's block, for me. A very long, extended writer's block, as I stated above. And then life got in the way. I'm really sorry about the long wait. A proper chapter should be up soon, and by soon I actually mean 'within the next month' as opposed to last chapter's soon of 'within the next year'. I hope you enjoyed!

And, for the record, Phoenix will be making an appearance into the actual timeline of this story, not just the interlude. But not Dark Phoenix. ...Well, not YET, anyway...

Review!


	12. Empathy

Adrian: Hey, people! I'm back! After the super long gap between the last two chapters, I figured I might as well churn out a new chapter ASAP. This story is one that I definitely, definitely will be finishing.

Of course, it helps that I just made my way through the ENTIRE New Sun arc, as well as the Gambit-as-Death Apocalypse Arc, X-Men: Legacy (though not the whole thing), and the very beginning of Gambit & Bishop. So, yeah. I've been seriously hitting the comics lately. It's great for inspiration. Especially of the Storm/Gambit friendship kind. You know, for being just best friends, they make out an awful lot…Well, who am I to break the trend?

Oh, yeah, there's also a lot of B.S. biology crap that I've spewed off the top of my head, so if there's anyone super into biology and I've just completely messed up here, sorry. I'm working off of the basics of what I know about cell structure for this, and making the rest up from there: mitochondria control your body's energy.

Disclaimer: Of course I own Gambit. He's mine. All mine. No one else's. Not even Rogue's. That's why I'm writing fanfiction, because I own him entirely. Duh.

**Out of the Frying Pan

* * *

****Chapter Ten: Empathy**

_**X-Mansion**__**  
Bayville, New York:  
June 18 – 12:02 P.M.**_

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

"Comein," Professor Xavier called, not even so much as looking up from the files he was going over.

"Y' wanted t' see me, Prof?" Remy asked, stepping through the door.

"Ah, yes, Remy," Charles noted. He rested the papers down and looked up, shooting a smile at the slightly nervous young man. "Please, have a seat. There are some things I'd like to go over with you. Dr. McCoy received your results from the lab at Muir Island yesterday."

"Oh. F'got about those," Remy muttered, plopping himself down into the chair in front of the desk. "So what's m' prognosis, doc?" he asked with an over-exaggerated sigh.

"You seem sassy today," the Professor remarked with an amused smile. Shifting through the files, he pulled out one in particular before continuing to address the young man. "Your prognosis, as it were, is truly amazing. Your body seems to have been built strictly to process energy. Your mutation is the reason why you find yourself incapable of sitting still for too long, why you have such an accelerated metabolism, and even, to a degree, one of the reasons why you have such impenetrable mental shields. Your mitochondria are producing energy at unexplainable rates, pumping so much through your body that it needs to be emitted. And those are just your primary bodily functions. That doesn't even begin to get into all the intricacies of your ever-developing powers. And, speaking of powers, that's the main reason I called you down here today. It just so happened that I recently finished speaking with Beast about your results."

"Waddaya mean, dat's the reason y' called me down 'ere?" the Cajun boy frowned, sitting up a little in his seat. Professor Xavier's voice had taken on a serious quality that he really didn't like. It was the same tone that had come before such announcements as _'Your dog Julia just died'_, _'You're marrying Belladonna'_, _'I accidentally flushed Goldie, your pet frog, down the toilet'_, _'You're brother's being attacked by alligators!'_ and _'Magneto's been killed by Apocalypse.'_ It was a tone that definitely, definitely never brought anything good for him, and Gambit was half expecting the Professor to tell him that, no, there was nothing he could do to help him, he was on his own, good luck, and don't blow anything up on the way out! What he got was much more surprising, but just as bad in his mind.

"Remy," Charles began slowly, "I know about your secondary mutation. Your empathy. I also know that you have even less control over that than you do over your kinesis. Most importantly, though, I know that if you do not learn how to control and successfully process through the ability, your shields will crumble and the overwhelming nature of it all will drive you crazy and kill you."

Silence. There was absolute silence from Remy as the red-eyed young man processed what he had just been told. His face was stone-like, and the bald Professor could just picture the way his eyes had to be burning underneath the constant shades he wore over his unique eyes. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm not gonna bother askin' how the hell y' know about dat, Prof, 'cause quite frankly Ah pro'ly won't get the answer Ah wanna hear. I just wanna know what your point is by tellin' me all this."

"I'm telling you that I believe I can help you control your empathy, and if you can learn to control it, you might have an easier time with your kinesis. After all, your kinetic abilities are largely influenced by your emotional state. But this decision is entirely up to you."

"Entirely up to me?" Remy laughed. His shades dropped low on his nose, revealing his bright his eyes were shining. Remy LeBeau was more than a little pissed off. "It don't seem like Ah have much of a choice here, M'sieur. I agreed to stay here, but Ah don't much appreciate dis invasion o' privacy."

The Professor sighed, resting his hands flat on his desk as he leaned in. He could very much understand the Cajun's concerns. "It was not meant as an invasion of privacy, Remy, I assure you. I simply had my suspicions, and the labs from Muir Island confirmed them."

Remy 'hmph'ed and slumped back into his seat, crossing his arms across his chest. "Well—y' really think it's dat important, _hein_?" The look on Xavier's face revealed the answer. The red-eyed young man sighed. "Fine. Sure. We do dis, but I ain't want no one else knowin' 'bout it."

"Of course not," the bald man replied lightly, shifting the papers on his desk to pull out a calendar. "We can meet every Tuesday and Thursday at 3 p.m. starting tomorrow. Is that alright for you?"

Gambit scowled. "S'not like I have much choice dere now. If dat's all?" he glared, shoving himself out of the seat.

Responding with a pleasant smile, Charles dismissed him with an amiable, "I'll see you tomorrow, Remy."

So caught up in his internal self-pitying spiel as he all but stormed out, the Cajun nearly bowled into Jean, heading into the office he just came out of. "Sorry 'bout dat, _chere_," he grinned at her. The redhead smiled back.

"No problem at all, Gambit," she returned, slipping into the Professor's office. As soon as she left, a frown made his way over his face. He had felt something from her strongly pressing against his mental barriers—and it wasn't her telepathy. It was an emotion: cold, dark, and all encompassing. It was fear.

"What dat girl got t' be scared of?" Remy muttered to himself, making his way to the kitchen. He had been on his way to breakfast when the Professor had mentally summoned him. The man must have just had his mind probing for the instant the teen awoke.

"G'morning, Stormy," the brown-haired boy announced, noticing the woman eating her lunch at the surprisingly quiet kitchen table. The two had formed a sort of camaraderie since the rest of the mansions inhabitants had returned a few days ago. It was either due to their common shared thieving heritage, or the fact that Gambit was actually willing to put up with her obsessive-compulsive gardening to the point where he would even _help_ her with it. It took a brave man to risk damaging Ororo Munroe's garden, even accidentally.

"Good _afternoon_, Remy," Storm replied with a slightly annoyed smile on her face as she sipped at her cup of tea. "And for the last time, do not call me that. I can and _will_ strike you with lightning."

"Eh, I'll take m' chances. Stormy," he grinned, grabbing the cereal and milk from the fridge and joining her at the table. "So, you know what Rogue's up to today, by any chance?"

"Making up on lost danger room sessions with Logan. Something about you hogging the DR because you destroyed the Med Lab…?" the white-haired woman trailed off, a frown decorating her beautiful brown face.

"Dat was an accident an' you know it. Well, since Ah can't bother m' soon to be girlfriend, whatever will Ah do?" Gambit pondered aloud, his red eyes flashing mischievously.

Ororo huffed out loud, pushing herself up from the table. "You certainly can_not_ follow me around like the lost puppy you pretend to be. Besides, I'm going into town, and you know the Professor asked that you remain on the Institute grounds in light of your…_circumstances_."

Scowling, the teen glared at that table. It certainly wasn't his fault that his powers were evolving out of control or that crazy mutants were trying to kidnap him for nefarious purposes. "What I ever do t' deserve this?" Remy bemoaned.

"I'm sure you have done plenty of bad things in your life, Gambit, but I assure you that none of what's happening is because you deserve it. Besides, it's not as if you're locked up here. You're free to come and go as you please, Charles only made a request of you. There's also a plethora of activities around the mansion. As a matter of fact, I believe I overheard your friend St. John planning something for you with Piotr."

Storm smiled at the groan she received in response. As she turned the tap on, the windrider contemplated the boy seated at the table behind her. For someone who didn't take well to being in one place for too long, he was holding up surprisingly well for the near week he'd been stuck only at the Institute, not even allowed to so much as go into town. Pyro had had to finish all of Remy's underwear shopping for him. That did not a happy Cajun make, though the woman assumed that when she had returned with the group on vacation, things had eased up a little now that the poor boy had an actual friend who lived at the school. Having Piotr to hang out with had certainly made things easier for the thief. Ororo knew for a fact that Remy didn't need things any harder on himself. Not with the problems he was currently facing.

The minute she had returned to the Institute, Charles had whisked her to the side to explain their new resident. Storm had found the situation surprising, but she had been downright shocked when the telepath had requested her to act as a sort of mentor to the young man.

"Goodness knows he doesn't need any of Logan's influence," the bald man had remarked with a laugh, and the weather witch couldn't help but find herself agreeing. All Logan really did was smoke, drink, gamble, and fight. Remy seemed to have a pretty good grip on that side of life already. So she had agreed, and Ororo couldn't say that she regretted that decision one bit so far. He had many interesting stories, and the more time they spent together, the more the woman found they had in common. Both had grown up on the streets without parents (though the circumstances differed), both had been lead into lives of thieving, both had incredibly powerful abilities directly linked to their emotional state. Not to mention that the boy could _garden_.

"But _Stormy_," Gambit continued to wheedle, breaking the windrider's train of thought. He dragged his spoon around in the little bit of milk left from the way he'd attacked the food. "I'll go _crazy_ sittin' here all day by myself! Y' can only play so many games o' solitaire 'fore strange things start happenin' to your mind. 'Sides," he added, "I completely almost trust y' to take care o' any big, bad monsters tryin' to hurt dis here boy."

"And what about all those people 'this here boy' could _accidentally_ hurt in the crossfire, hm? It's much like the time I once caused a brush fire in Wakanda practicing my lightning with T'Challa. The difference being that I could summon the rain to put a stop to the raging fire. You, on the other hand, can't control all the destruction you will sow."

With an over exaggerated sigh, the Cajun rested his spoon down. He knew when he was defeated. "Oh, yeah, 'cause dis big hunk o' metal on my neck is completely useless. Ah, well. M'sieur Wolvie can't keep dat girl locked in combat all day. 'specially not when he's got a fine, sexy lady like you waitin' on him." A wink and that charming smile, and then Remy stood up with deliberate slowness, stretching his back as he moved.

"That's the spirit, my dear Acadian friend," Storm replied, with a smile. She gave him a slight pat on the back as she walked by on her way out of the kitchen. That's why the white-haired mutant was completely caught off guard when she was grabbed by the waist, spun around, and found herself caught in a lip-lock with the handsome young devil. Seconds later, right as the shock was beginning to wear off, Remy released her.

"_Merci beaucoup, ma belle_," a bow, and then the imp scampered out of the kitchen, his laughter ringing in her ears as a bolt of lightning struck across the clear blue sky.

Storm would most definitely be paying him back for this later.

_**Brotherhood of Mutants**__**  
Bayville, New York:  
June 18 – 1:19 P.M.**_

"No!" Wanda roared, slamming her hands down on the kitchen table. "I'm not doing it!"

"Wanda, I know this might be hard for you, but it's for your own benefit. When have I ever done something that wasn't ultimately for your own good?" Magneto replied, giving his daughter a level stare.

"I'm not moving to the Institute! If anyone so much as _thinks_ of crossing me, I can rip them apart! I don't need those assholes," the black-and-red haired girl sneered. Rage was etched into her face, and those hard brown eyes glared a hole right through her father's head.

"Eh…Sheila…maybe we should listen to your father, eh?" her currently timid boyfriend piped up from where he was sitting. "I mean…you saw wot they did to Rems."

"And you saw what I did to them! I'm not _moving_!" At the last word, the house shook with the force of Avalanche PMSing, but Magneto wasn't paying his daughter anymore mind. His gaze was now leveled at Pyro, who let out a small 'meep' when he noticed.

"What they did to Gambit?" The Master of Magnetism's voice left no room for questioning.

"Uh…yeh…about that, actually, Mags…It was like…them! And then Sabretooth! And then, blam! And then 'is side wos _gone_! And then it wos like, no bloody way! I personally can't believe it meself, and it happened right in front of me!" As the Aussie continued to babble, Magneto turned his eyes back to his daughter.

"Explain, please. I can never understand that idiot when he gets on a roll."

"Those guys…Marauders, as you called them, attacked Gambit and Rogue at the mall. Luckily, Pyro and I were there or else the whole place would be a giant mass of ash now because that idiot can't control his stupid powers," the moody girl replied crossing her arms. "And I'm still not moving to the mansion, so don't push me," she added.

"You don't understand who you're dealing with, Wanda, but I do. If this monster sets his sights on you, he will go to all lengths to have you and keep you. With your power, there's a strong chance that he might notice you!" The worried father returned earnestly. He ran a hand through his white locks in frustration.

"Well, then," the sour-faced teenager snapped back, "It's a good thing I can alter probabilities, isn't it?"

"Y-know-sis," a new voice from the doorway popped up, and the three people in the kitchen looked to see Pietro leaning in the doorway, still for what might've been the first time in his life, "Maybe-you-should-listen-to-dad-he's-only-trying-to-help."

"Well, then, he can _help himself_ out the door because I'm not going _anywhere_."

"Very well," Magneto replied, standing up from the table to tower slightly over his daughter. "If that is your final decision on the matter, I will respect it."

"Goodbye, Father," the Scarlet Witch dismissed with an air of finality.

"Goodbye, Wanda. Pietro."

"Bye-dad!" the speedster replied in a rush, giving his father a second-long hug before zipping off somewhere else.

Shooting one last look back at his erstwhile daughter and future son-in-law, the magnetic mutant walked through the living room towards the front door. As he walked, he observed the other members of the house living in their squalor. Toad and Blob stood towards the corner, the former hopping around the latter one, quietly trying to explain something to him without bothering their pseudo-leader. Said pseudo-leader lay on the couch (again), nursing a hangover (again). It seemed that was all Avalanche got up to these days, from the various observations Magneto had been having others make on the place. Maybe it had something to do with being dumped by Kitty two weeks ago. Lance just hadn't taken the break-up well at all.

Magneto could not believe that he had once entrusted his mission to these pathetic…teenagers. At the time, though, he had just seen them for their powers: for how best they could be used to his advantage. He hadn't taken their personalities into account at all. The only members of the original team who really had some hope were Rogue, who had joined the X-Men, and Avalanche, who had tried to join the X-Men. Even Pietro wasn't that well-equipped for the things the Master of Magnetism requested of them, but Magnus would forever hold out hope for his son.

That was why, when Magneto had put together his new team, his Acolytes, he had put time and consideration into each possibility. He had mentally calculated who would work best together, who could best play off each other's strengths and weaknesses, who was just desperate enough to join his side, consequences be damned. Colossus had been easy enough; all the powerful mutant had to do was offer to get his sister adequate medical attention, and the metallic man was in. Pyro had seen Magneto as his only way out of a bad situation. Banned from his homeland, the Australian hadn't really had anywhere else to go. Gambit, however, had taken a little more convincing. Although the then-seventeen-year-old was living on his own, having run away from home, he was a professional thief and a damn good one at that. Remy had been living the high life. He'd been rolling along as if he had no care in the world. Magneto had actually been forced to offer money up front to prove he could pay the Cajun well enough should the boy join his team.

The money had been well-spent. From the moment the three had met, they had formed a connection. Colossus, ever the strong silent type, was the brute force of the trio, and preferred to spend his time sitting quietly in his room painting. He tended to be the voice of reason when St. John and Remy decided they wanted to do something ridiculously stupid as young men are prone to. Pyro, whose mind bordered on insanity on the best of days, was a surprisingly good tactician (probably from all the writing he did in his free time), but tended to have a very destructive nature. The Aussie was usually the cause of any and all trouble they got in. Gambit balanced the two of them out nicely. With his generally easy-going, flirtatious personality he could get Piotr to loosen up and St. John to mellow out, most of the time. He could usually come up with a plan that was an equal balance of crazy and reasonable. His unique skill set brought a finesse for getting a job done that none of their powers could have ever accomplished.

Magnus couldn't even quite pinpoint when he began looking at the three less as tools to accomplish his goals and more as the type of sons he had always wished to have (because, in all honesty, Pietro _was_ a complete failure, and even the brief time the boy had spent with the Acolytes hadn't changed that). The man had only noticed it after he'd returned from Apocalypse to find a disbanded team. The three of them had moved on with their lives and separated: Colossus and Pyro barely talked anymore, and neither of them had heard from Gambit since he left for his hometown. Of course, Magneto could have predicted that one day they would all be together again; as Sabretooth often pointed out, the three were inseparable. It had only been a matter of time. And the time, it seemed, was now.

With a barely visible smile, the metal-controlling mutant stepped into the limo he had waiting as his chauffer held the door open for him, not even sparing a second glance at the dilapidated house his real children lived in. Magnus had a brilliant idea.

"Mystique," he called out, and the window separating the driver from the passenger rolled down, giving the older gentleman time to watch the brown-haired man turn into his favourite blue-skinned lady. She shot him a questioning glance through the rear view mirror. "I need you to prepare the new team. I know exactly what their first test will be."

_**X-Mansion**__**  
Bayville, New York:  
June 18 – 4:33 P.M.**_

"So bored, _homme_!" The Cajun exclaimed, flinging himself down onto his bed.

"Well, we could always—"

"Ve are not setting anyzing to fire, comrade," the hulking Russian artist firmly stated without looking up from the drawing he was working on. The way his pencil moved across the page in smooth, wave-like motions had had St. John completely entranced. Of course, Remy wasn't nearly so easily distracted, and his comment had broken what little concentration their Australian friend had been using. "And Remy cannot leave mansion."

"Really?" Pyro asked boredly, tilting his head to look up at Piotr. He currently sat against the wall between the two beds, one where Remy was sprawled out on his back with one arm tossed over his face, looking as if all the world was out to get him, and the other where Piotr sat, completely involved in his artwork. Pyro continued, "Because I though he just couldn't go out alone. Or with only one other person. So far as I know, there are two of us here."

"Actually," the Cajun spoke up, shifting his body to lean on his arm so he could see his friends, "_M'sieur Professeur_ only made a request o' me. Ah'm free t' come n' go as I please."

"Well, that settles it!" John announced, jumping to his feet. His head darted rapidly to look at both of them as a wild grin spread across his face. "Your problem, mate, is that you're too bloody tired of bein' holed up in here. In all honesty, I don't think I remember you ever spending longer than three hours at a time at the base. You're almost more restless than I am!" A psychotic giggle escaped from his throat.

"Very well," Piotr acquiesced. "Ve go out, but only for short vhile. And I know zat ve vill regret zis."

"Lighten up, Petey," Remy commanded as he stood up and reached his arms over his head in a stretch. "Dis is a great idea. We just go into town f' an hour or two, leave a note so no one worries, an' pass de time in some stupid, immature way. Ah call dibs on stealin' Scott's car!"

With a tired sigh, Colossus, too, stood. And deep in his spirit, he knew that something really, really bad was going to come out of this. Or that could just be due to years of experience in dealing with these idiots and the fact that the outcome of their expeditions usually resulted in something bad, if only because Pyro was involved...

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

One hour later found the three stooges boredly sitting in a diner, slurping on their respective milkshakes (or Icee in John's case, as he was lactose intolerant).

"So, been outta de mansion f' a while, and my final verdict? Still bored," Remy drawled lazily, swirling his straw around in his chocolate drink. His chin rested on his other hand as he stared over the rim of the glass to where John had all but conked out with his head on the table. Piotr was still sketching away in that damnable art book of his.

"That sounds like a personal problem," a sultry voice commented, and the three men looked up in time to see a _very_ well-endowed dark-haired woman plop herself down at their table between the foreign mutants and across from the thief. All three frowned, and both Piotr and John looked to Remy to take the lead.

The cool Cajun leaned back in his seat, eyes unreadable through the dark sunglasses perched on his nose. "Mystique," he greeted simply.

A smirk crossed the woman's face as blue eyes flashed yellow for a moment. "Gambit. Pyro. Colossus," she returned the greeting with a nod to each one, casually observing. Colossus sat tense, his gaze locked on the three's de facto leader, while Pyro had gone back to sipping at his Icee, curiosity piqued. Gambit leaned back casually, one arm slung over the top of his chair with the other swirling his milkshake around. The shape shifter noted the image inducer slapped onto his wrist, most likely to hide the power negator he no doubt wore around his neck considering the thief still wore his shades.

"What'chu want, _chere_?"

"Magneto has a...proposition for you all, his favourite team of acolytes. A business venture, if you will."

"_Nyet_!" Piotr exclaimed, bringing a fist down heavily. A large crack appeared in the wooden table.

St. John laid a hand against his large friend's bicep, shooting the Russian a look that could only be deciphered by the three boys. Remy noted this and frowned to himself before responding.

"See, dere's a slight problem wit' whatever deal Mags is gon' offer us. See, Petey here has got dis great gig goin' wit' de X-Men, and dey generally a good group o' people opposed to any deals wit' ol' Bucket Head. 'Sides, Petey's loyal to a fault; he ain't gonna do a thing t' mess up his chances after dey so graciously took him in. Johnnie boy don't got no problem here, an' Ah usually wouldn't, but seein' as Ah'm sorta in de same boat as dis _homme_ here," he patted the large man firmly on the shoulder, "We gon' have to pass."

"Magneto figured you would say that," Mystique commented idly, crossing her legs.

"If he knew what we was gon' say, why'd he even bother askin'?"

The usually blue-skinned woman shot him an amused look. "Because now you're curious. When you do decide to help, everything you need to know is in this folder. Have a good day, fellows," and with that, she stood up, brushed her sexy business suit off, and sauntered out of the little diner.

The three men looked at each other for a moment before Pyro finally broke the silence with a loud slurp from his Icee.

"Well, that was awkward," he declared, taking another loud slurp as if to emphasize his point.

"Y' tellin' me, _homme_," Remy muttered, fingering the manila envelope Mystique had left on the table. "No woman has breasts dat naturally large."

"You are not seriously contemplating her offer, Comrade," Piotr said with a frown. "As much as ve may appreciate everyzing Magneto has done for us, ve are staying vith ze X-men now. You especially cannot afford to be kicked out for, how you say, fraternizing vith enemy."

"Chill, big guy," the Cajun drawled with a light smirk tossed at his friend. "Ah ain't dat stupid. I'll destroy it soon as we get back to de mansion, _bien_?"

With a huff the Russian settled down. Silence reigned over the table for a few more moments, and then...

"So...what do we do now, mates?"

**TBC**...

Adrian: My chapters continue to get progressively longer! I hope I didn't disappoint you guys too bad with the wait; it was definitely shorter than last time. And this time's an actual chapter, not just an interlude. Please Review!

**Next time:**

Professor Xavier and Remy tackle our dear Cajun's mental problems. Can they make it through their first session without either of them being driven insane?

Magneto's got a plan. What ill or good tidings does it bring our hapless hero (and his two loyal sidekicks)?

Rogue and Remy have some catching up to do. They have to talk about their problems sooner or later, right? But how open will either of them really be?

Wolverine. Logan still owes Remy revenge for his motorcycle. Will Storm talk him out of it or decide to help?

And this author likes reviews. Will more reviews make her update faster?

The answer to these questions and more—next time on _Out of the Frying Pan_!

Review!


	13. Demons Part 1

Adrian: Okay, once more I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to update. The next chapter should be out on the 29th. Yes, I know that's about three weeks, but it's shorter than before. I just have a lot of work to do, so that's kind of making me update not as fast as I would like (other stories included in this—I've just had Writer's Block. Again. Gah). But the 29th is my deadline for the next chapter because I'm reorganizing my life. I'm using a planner. And planning out stories. This story will be finished! Instead of droning on in my author's notes like I usually do, I'm just going to skip straight to the point.

But really quick, this chapter takes a much more serious turn. It's not quite as silly as the ones before, and I probably didn't get everything I thought I would in it. Also because I rewrote it. Twice.

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men, or any of its various babies.

CURRENT LISTENING: Well, by now I have a whole 31 song playlist for this story, but the main songs for this chapter are _**Because of You,**_** by Kelly Clarkson; **_**Angels on the Moon,**_** by Thriving Ivory; **_**Disenchanted,**_** by My Chemical Romance.**

**Out of the Frying Pan

* * *

****Chapter Eleven: Demons (Part 1)**

_**X-Mansion**__**  
Bayville, New York:  
June 19 – 4:27 P.M.**_

"Remy?" Storm called, her bare feet softly padding against the wood floor in between the aisles of plants that made up her greenhouse. This was the fourth place the woman had thought to check in the half an hour she'd been searching for her mentee. The roof had been the obvious first choice, and when the elusive thief hadn't shown up there Storm had headed to his bedroom. Empty, just like the white-haired weather witch had initially thought it would be. She had begun to go to Rogue's room, but meeting the girl had been all the confirmation that Storm needed to know that Remy had practically turned invisible.

"What's wrong?" Rogue had asked, a frown marring her overly made-up face. "Ah know he had that meetin' with the Professor today; did somethin' happen?"

The African woman had sighed. "I don't know the details," was her response, "but I believe they might have stumbled across something in his psyche better left locked away."

The flicker of fear that had had appeared on the Southern teen's face for a moment was something that Storm found herself surprised to see. It was breathtaking and heartwrenching all in one; a somewhat poignant expression that left the white-haired woman with a deep-rooted feeling of sadness for the pseudo-relationship that the two young Southerners were forming.

"You should check your greenhouse," Rogue had finally suggested. "He lahkes it there."

In hindsight, this was definitely one of the first places Ororo should have looked. It was filled with so many nooks and crannies: the oddest places to hide could be found there, and the ex-thief had no misgivings that the Cajun hadn't found them all within the first ten minutes of the first time he'd been up here. Luckily enough, she knew them all, too.

"Remy?" she called again, turning down the aisle between her azaleas and hyacinths. Idly, Storm summoned a rain cloud to water the lilies that she just noticed were wilting, their white petals drooping and turning brown. Turning down another aisle, the woman finally found the object of her search. He was seated against the wall, knees drawn up with his arms wrapped around them, and if Ororo didn't know any better she would say that he was crying. "Remy?" she called once more.

"Stormy," he mumbled, not looking up from where he twirled a chrysanthemum in one hand.

"Are you alright?" the woman questioned, keeping her voice soft.

His lips drew tight and no response was forthcoming as the distressed young man continued to stare blankly at nothing.

"Remy," Storm started before stopping herself. She quietly placed herself next to her newest friend, feeling the unusually high heat his body seemed to always emanate from where their shoulders barely met. The only other time they had been this close physically had been the day before in the kitchen. Ororo felt the same amused annoyance bubble up within her at the memory, but shoved it back down. It wasn't useful in a situation like this. In fact, what was useful in a situation like this? There was something off about Gambit, as if he'd suffered a huge wound to his soul. Not a cut or a gash because as deep as those might be, they healed fairly quickly, scabbing over and leaving the faintest scar. It was more like a third degree burn, the kind that seared all the way through the nerves to the point where you couldn't feel anything at the root of the problem—it was the lesser burns surrounding the injury that hurt the most as you slipped into shock from the extent of the damage.

That's what the African priestess saw as she watched Remy out of the corner of her eye. Whatever he and the professor had uncovered had sent the boy into a sort of mental shock. If Storm had telepathy, she was pretty sure she'd find that he'd closed himself off even more tightly than the telepaths claimed he usually was. The most she knew to do right now was just offer him quiet company—the same type of company T'Challa had given her after she'd been attacked in the desert those many years ago. The young prince of Wakanda had been a great help to her during their time together. Oftentimes, the woman pondered over what their relationship might have turned into had she not been kidnapped by those men for her power. No doubt she would have made a truly magnificent queen.

"Remy?" a loud, concerned, and definitely Australian voice called from the entrance to her garden.

"Here!" Storm called lightly, standing up so that the man blindly rushing into the greenhouse could find her heavy-hearted companion. Pyro, spotting her, switched directions instantly, rushing right past the woman to stoop in front of his best friend.

"'Ey, mate," the redhead began, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder. Concern creased his forehead. "Rogue called me. She said…well…whatever it is, it's fine, see?"

Storm smiled to herself, a somewhat bittersweet expression, as she exited the room to give them some privacy. St. John Allerdyce, as odd as he appeared to be sometimes, was more than able to help Remy LeBeau.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Professor Xavier frowned as he steepled his fingers. Logan sat in front of him with a scowl on his face that would scare any kid who came within a 15-foot radius.

"Stripes is in hysterics over the Cajun, and all I get is that this kid is more messed up than you originally thought?" the Wolverine growled, chewing down on the end of his cigar.

The professor's frown deepened. "No, Logan. That's not what I said. While it is true that I wasn't fully expecting the amount of damage his psyche his suffered in his short life, the main problem remains the same. Nathaniel Essex. I'm beginning to feel there's even more of a reason to keep Remy from him than just the obvious. From what I discovered in his mind, I believe that this is not the first time Mr. Sinster has…shown an interest in Gambit. Gambit has simply not been able to remember it."

"And you goin' traipsing through his mind just unlocked it all and sent the poor kid into shock?" The grimace that appeared on the Professor's face duly informed Logan that it was much more complicated than that. With a sigh, the feral sat back in the large, plush chair and snuffed out his cigar. "Okay, then, Chuck. Enlighten me."

_**X-Mansion**__**  
Bayville, New York:  
June 19 – 3:23 P.M.**_

The door to the office crept open slowly as the reluctant teenager dragged his feet and forced himself inside. Charles, hiding a smile at the young man's predictability, quickly reorganized the files on his desk.

"Good afternoon, Remy," he greeted amicably, ignoring the devilish glare he was receiving by very much not-happy red eyes. "I hope you don't mind Logan. When you didn't show up at our appointed time I was concerned that something might have happened to you, so I had him make sure you were okay."

Gambit scowled, a few imperceptible words that were most likely curses muttered under his breath, and turned to shoot Wolverine a dark look before straightening himself out and moving to the chair in front of the Professor's desk.

Watching the young man plop down, Xavier allowed the smile to creep out for a moment before straightening his face once more. "I understand that you don't particularly want to be here, but you have to realize that this is to help you. Even if you don't care for empathy, your kinetic abilities are heavily influenced by your emotions. Your emotions are directly connected to your empathic abilities. If you don't get them under control, you will have a very difficult time mastering your increased power. Like I told you before, Remy, I can help you with your empathy, but I can't do more than you'll allow me to." The bald man levelled a serious look at his temporary student.

The red-eyed glare lasted a few more moments before Gambit dropped his face with a sigh, wearily staring down at the floor. "Fine. I get y' point. How you wanna do dis den?" Remy glanced up, a blank look on his face as he met the professor's gaze through long bangs.

"I'm going to need to go into your mind."

Remy's heart dropped. He had been expecting that, but a large part of him had hoped otherwise. For Xavier to use his telepathy, that meant that Remy would have to drop his shields—and everything would come rushing in all at once. Consciously, he didn't know what that'd really feel like. His mental barriers had been in place for so long, blocking the world out almost completely, that the Cajun had no idea what would happen, not anymore. But some small, innate part of him, the part that remembered that feeling in detail, bucked against this.

"Can't do dat, Professeur," Remy asserted. He was still refraining from glaring, but the steady look he was giving the older man brooked almost no room for argument. As their gazes locked, it was as if his eyes broke through all of Charles' defences, filling the Professor with an odd feeling. He opened his mouth to agree with the young man before faltering. Something was very off here.

"You're manipulating my emotions," Xavier stated, steepling his fingers.

The young Cajun frowned. "No, I'm not. Ah got dis power negator on."

Realization dawned in the telepath's mind. "Ah, my mistake. I should have realized this might have happened. That's not the most high-tech negator, after all, and it's not unheard of that a mutant of your calibre might overwhelm its circuitry."

"So you sayin' it doesn't work?" Anger flared up inside of Remy, fuelled by the innate fear he didn't want to admit to. If his powers went out of control _here_, well…he'd already put the lower levels of the mansion out of commission for the past few weeks. And that had only been a small percentage of his power, considering he'd been mostly drained still from the night before. Although, come to think of it, he had been feeling emotions drifting off of people for some time now. It was amazing he hadn't recognized the glitch before.

"It can control your main mutation, but they've been known to sometimes have difficulties with secondary ones. All this is just more of a reason why we need to help you with your powers as soon as possible."

Remy sighed. "Fine," he acquiesced, bracing himself for a sudden influx as he dropped his mental barriers. Instead, though, he felt…well, there was a soft something flowing off Xavier that he couldn't quite pin down, as well as the sort of rough, harsh feelings that comprised Wolverine. Not the sort of influx he had imagined. A barely perceptible breath of relief escaped from his lips as he watched the Professor wheel around to the front of his desk.

"It's much easier to initiate a psychic link through direct contact, as I'm sure you're aware of," the stately man began and held out his hand for the Cajun to take. "All that I plan to do this session is some mild probing—I just want to identify the best way I might be able to help you."

Remy studied the man warily for a second longer before gingerly grasping the hand offered.

The change wasn't so much abrupt as…_unexpected_. There had been a distinct, smooth feeling of displacement as his mind slipped from its body and widened its scale to the astral plane. So while one second he was sitting in the Professor's office rather annoyed, the next second he found himself in the most beautiful museum he'd ever seen with a strange, somewhat familiar blonde man standing next to him.

"You're mindscape is a museum. I find myself entirely unsurprised," the man commented, and Remy jerked as he realized that this strange, standing blonde man was actually the professor. "Taken aback by my appearance?" Xavier smiled. "I find that most are. This is simply my astral projection of myself. How I looked when I was just a little older than yourself and still had my legs."

"Um…okay." This whole astral plane thing was slightly discomfiting, so Gambit decided he was probably better if he didn't think about it to hard. Instead he turned, inspecting his surroundings. The _Mona Lisa_ on that wall, the Hope Diamond in a stand over there, _Girl With a Pearl Earring_ right up there, and more security than the Pentagon, to just name a few things. This, he thought to himself, was most definitely his ideal museum. No wonder it was his mindscape.

The Professor moved to take a step forward, but suddenly froze, worried creases appearing on his forehead.

"What?" Remy asked idly, still visually exploring his mindscape. Was that the Sistine Chapel piece painted on the ceiling?

"Your mind. It's been tampered with."

_**Brotherhood Boarding House**__**  
Bayville, New York:  
June 19 – 3:24 P.M.**_

Rogue groaned as she plopped down on the dingy living room couch. "It's just, well, Wanda. It's Remy Lebeau. You know how he is. On one hand, he's so charming and sweet and sexy. But on the other, he can be a complete _ass_ sometimes. You know he—"

"Nearly blew off your hand once, yes, you've told me multiple times," the Scarlet Witch responded dryly. "Is this all you wanted to talk to me about? Because if that's the case, I think I'd rather stick my hand in a blender. It'd be less painful."

"Shut up," the green-clad goth snapped at her pseudo-best friend. "This is actually important. Ah lahke the guy, after all, and we've just always understood each other on a totally different level than anyone else could."

"Because he completely understood your burning desire to be kidnapped and taken to Mardi Gras to rescue his scoundrel of a father. Against your will, I might add." Wanda was not impressed. Sitting back in the one nice chair of the living room reserved only for her, the powerful girl messed with the rings on her hands as she peered at Rogue.

"It wasn't quite like that, and you know it." And there was that world famous Rogue-glare. The one that made everyone except Xavier, Logan, and Gambit quake in their skin-tight spandex. The glare didn't apply to Wanda Maximoff because she refused to wear spandex on pain of dismemberment. No, she'd stick to red leather, thank you very much.

"But still. Ah just don't know how to just…_talk_ to him. Get to know him beyond the flirtin', the physical attraction, the guy who almost blew mah hand off that one time."

"Oh, that's easy, sheila," St. John broke into the conversation as he entered the room. "Just get him drunk." He'd been listening to the conversation from the kitchen for a while now, only it'd finally seemed the perfect time to break in.

"Get him drunk? Really? That's your big, helpful advice?" This time, the glare was much more effective, causing the Australian redhead to cower behind his girlfriend's chair.

"I'm entirely serious, Rogue! How do you think metal-man and I got him to open up to us? Sure, he'll be mad for a pinch, but 'e gets over it."

Rogue sighed. She should've known better than to ask these two. Maybe Storm would have better advice—after all, the weather witch had managed to ensnare not only the prince of the richest country in Africa (as she was so fond of talking about), but she'd managed to get the _Wolverine_. If Storm could see into Logan's soul, then Ororo could most definitely offer advice on seeing into Remy's. It was time to go back to the mansion.

**TBC…**

Adrian: In case you got confused, look at the times of the events. The second two parts are farther in the past than the first part. This whole section will be concluded in the next chapter, up on October 29th. It also sets the plot for the rest of the story, more or less, so yeah. Keep an eye out.

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